


A Rip in Time

by MissMarquin, theangryuniverse



Series: To Boldly Go [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Space, Bad Science, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/M, M/M, Otabek's a mechanic, Romance, Space Spaghetti Western, Star Trek influence, Star Trek inspired, You Have Been Warned, Yuri is a Punk, gays in space, lots of space, not exactly a Star Trek AU, space, star trek inspired au, starships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2019-08-28 14:41:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 143,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16725363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMarquin/pseuds/MissMarquin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangryuniverse/pseuds/theangryuniverse
Summary: Victor Nikiforov has big shoes to fill, when it comes to being the youngest Starfleet Captain to ever be given a command. Tasked with testing a brand-new Temporal Propulsion engine that could change the face of space exploration, he must chart unknown territory with his brand new motley crew. He's got his hands full with a Chief Engineer who 'doesn't do people', a kid-punk with an attitude bad enough to kick him off six different ships, and a Xenolinguist whose biggest fear is space itself.What's a Captain to do, when things go very, very wrong?





	1. In The Beginning, There Was Space. Lots of Space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theangryuniverse found out that I'm a huge Trekkie, and somehow, this AU started. While we've always helped each other along with ideas and such, we've never truly co-authored something, so this is a new experience for us. Honestly, we can't fucking wait. 
> 
> And so, we have the first entry in To Boldly Go, A Rip in Time. This is Star Trek inspired, not a Star Trek AU-- but fellow trekkies will see tons of little nods, and things that are definitely pulled right out of the universe. 
> 
> So sit back, relax and enjoy the ride... cause it's gonna be a wild one.

**_In the Beginning, There Was Space. Lots of Space._ **

 

* * *

 

_There is a lot resting on my shoulders, here._

He could feel it, the weight of his father’s expectations. He had joined Starfleet to get away from his strict and traditional family, but what a stupid idea that had been. _Admiral Nikiforov_ was one of the most renowned Commanders in the history of the organization, and the moment that his own name had been uttered on the roll call lists, all eyes had turned his way.

That was the moment that Victor had decided to show off, rather than coast through the Academy on a low radar. Brilliant, flamboyant, and incredibly gay, he let his talents speak for themselves. He graduated a year early, with grades that were far above par. He was a prodigy when it came to military tactics and planetary navigation, and several of his maneuvers already graced the pages of textbooks.

But it hadn’t been enough. His first assignment had been on his father’s ship, but the man had been so _embarrassed_ by having a gay son, that he had requested Victor to be immediately transferred. Despite happening nearly eight years prior, it still stung.

And now, there he stood on deck three of the _Beta Centauri_ Space Station. Staring out of the forcefield, towards the port where the _USS Agape_ was currently docked. Crewman in spacesuits walked along the hull, making their last minute inspections before it set off. The ship was a prototype model, brand new and sleek, and never-been-flown.

And she was his. Victor had been gifted this amazing Command, marking his place in history as the youngest Starfleet Captain _ever_ , at the age of twenty-seven.

“Did he bother to show up?” he asked, but the moment the question left his mouth, he already knew the answer. Eight years was a long time, but not long enough for a bitter old man to realize that his son wouldn’t ever bring home a girl.

“I sent the invite, as you asked,” another man responded, following it up with a sigh. Victor turned to look at Admiral Yakov Feltsman, his lips twisting into a knowing small, knowing smile.

“I didn’t expect much, honestly,” he replied. “Even making history isn’t good enough for that old fool.”

“Fool indeed,” Feltsman said, “but still technically a superior officer.” He didn’t really mean anything by it though, and Victor laughed.

“I think I get a pass this time, being his son and all.”

“He’d court martial you on the spot, if he heard such informality.”

“He’d court martial me for plenty of other things too, if he could have his way.” Silence stretched between them, and it didn’t take a genius to know exactly what Victor meant. Finally, he back back to look at the ship, and said, “I know that I deserve this. I don’t have to sit here and wonder, ‘Why me’. But I can’t help but wonder-- will I do her justice? Will I do my crew justice?”

The Admiral reached out, pressing a hand against his shoulder. “That’s a question that every Captain asks, and it’s not just the first time. Every Mission brings such a question, and it never gets easier.”

At that, Victor frowned. “If you’re trying to give me a pep talk, it isn’t working.”

“I’m not _done_ ,” Feltsman continued with. “It’s a  _good_ thing. Imagine if it did get easier? Captains would get sloppy, and when Command is sloppy, people die. It is a good thing to be confident, but it is more important to question yourself. It keeps you in check, and it keeps your crew safe.”

Victor had served on plenty of ships, and he had saved plenty of lives. But never before, had he been _responsible_ for them. But he was the most confident person he knew, and despite his momentary apprehension, he would remain that way.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” he said, reaching over to return the shoulder grasp, trying not to think of things that had happened before. There was nothing good about getting lost in his past. “We’re not going to war, or anything,” he finally finished with.

“That’s more your father’s style,” the Admiral said with a smirk.

Victor smirked back. “Now who’s breaking protocol, with all that informality?”

Feltsman just threw his head back, and laughed in response.

 

* * *

 

_How the fuck did I get here?_

The question had been his constant mantra for the last four hours.

Initially, it had been _what the fuck am I doing_ , as stepped onto the small transport ship. Looking back at his mother, who should have been the concerned one. But she had looked excited for him instead, leaving him feeling like he was going to hurl.

Yuuri Katsuki _didn’t do space_.

He had graduated the Academy with flying colors, and he could crack complicated alien languages with little more than a few lines of dialogue and a decent set of headphones, but _intergalactic space travel_?

 _Absolutely the fuck not_.

He was actually impressed with himself, now that he thought about it. He had only _wanted_ hurl, the entire trip to the Space Station, but he hadn’t.

Yet. There was still plenty of time, and despite _Beta Centauri_ being stationary, despite his feet firmly on the deck floor, and the gravitational control systems working to a perfect tee--

There was just _so much that could go wrong_. Space was dangerous. It was dangerous, deadly and worst of all, permanent. If you died in space, you stayed in space, where there was nothing else. And that freaked him out the most.

He had wanted a post on Earth, preferably. In the end, he would have taken any planet, really. He wanted his feet firmly on the ground, where you could stand nice and solid, and you couldn’t get blown out of the sky, careening to your death, or suffocating in space, or--

There he went again, thinking of the worst of things. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to settle himself.

_Why the fuck am I here?_

A slightly different question, with a slightly different answer. He had been posted to the USS Agape, and for whatever reason he had _agreed_. Clearly, he was sick.

Or insane.

And still not entirely convinced that he had made the right choice.

Someone stepped right next to him, dropping their bag onto the metal grate of the floor. “Seriously, what a beautiful ship, and she’s all ours!”

Yuuri winced slightly. There was literally nothing beautiful about that death trap sitting out there, and the idea of spending the next few _years_ on there was slowly looking less and less appealing, and he--

He paused, taking a deep breath again. “Nishigori-san,” he said politely, as he turned to look at her. “I would appreciate it, if you wouldn’t _remind_ me about my grave mistake of taking this assignment.”

Yuuko blinked back at him innocently, but he knew better. Finally, her lips curved into a smile. “At least you aren’t alone, you know. At least you have your _best friend_ here.”

Best friend was pushing it, but he was incredibly fond of the woman, and her stupid husband. He had always been a bit of an outcast and a weird kid, and at the academy, they had looked right past that.

They also spoke Japanese, which was an instant comfort.

“It’ll be fine, Yuuri,” she said, opting to drop formality. She had always been casual around him, and he had always struggled with following suit. “I mean, you _heard_ about who our Captain is, right?”

No, he hadn’t, and he told her as such. She looked at him dumbfounded. “I didn’t really read the brief,” he admitted. “I thought that if I did, I’d chicken out and well…” He cast a wary glance back towards the ship.

“You know, I’m honestly surprised that you haven’t passed out.” He was too, but he didn’t waste his time telling her that. She opened her mouth to continue. “Anyhow, we’re under the command of the illustrious _Captain Victor Nikiforov_. I could just about die, I do believe.”

 _That_ made Yuuri come to a full-stop. “Isn’t he the one that destroyed half a ship, with some crazy maneuver?”

Yuuko nodded enthusiastically. “He managed to survive on limited life support, while it took the fleet over two days to find him. Kind of amazing, yeah?”

“And isn’t he the one that the _Riki Tiki Niki_ is named after?”

“I mean, it might be a _ridiculous_ tactic, but it works. Apparently.”

Yuuri just stared at her, like she had lost her mind. It worked, sure, but only if you had a death wish, and didn’t mind being catapulted into dead space if it _didn’t_. Victor Nikiforov was famous for a million things, not limited to being _insane_.

“I’ve made a mistake,” he said, breathing faster. “This was a mistake, I can’t… Nishigori-san, I can’t do this--”

He felt two hands press against his shoulders, turning him to face her. “If you say what I think you’re going to say, I won’t hesitate to slap you. Seriously Yuuri, you haven’t worked your ass off to get anywhere _but here_.”

“Why couldn’t I have been stationed on a planetary outpost? That would be nice, and most of all _safe_.”

“And _useless_. Yuuri, this is an exploratory mission. A Xenolinguist of your caliber is necessary.”

“There are plenty of others to choose from,” he said, his throat feeling dry. But she shot him an unconvinced look. “Right?”

“Like I said, Yuuri,” she said, slinging her arm around his shoulder, and motioning to the ship. “You won’t be alone. Takeshi and I will be here with you, every step of the way.”

“More like making sure that I step onto that damn ship,” he muttered.

“ _Damn right_.”

Yuuri sighed and pulled away from her, before leaning over and picking up Yuuko’s bag, and handing it to her. “Then let’s go, before I _actually_ change my mind.”

 _I’m crazy,_ he thought, as they left the corner and headed towards the gate. _I’m absolutely, fucking crazy, and I will regret this the rest of his life_.

Yuuri decided that he could live with the regret.

He just had to survive space first.

 

* * *

 

_I’m tired of all these fucking ships. I’m tired of rules, and captains, and missions that I won’t ever finish._

Six ships. That’s how many ships Yuri Plisetsky had served on, within the span of a year. And he was tired of being kicked off of one, and immediately thrown onto another. The USS Agape would be no exception, he was sure.

He couldn’t help that authority pissed him off. It wasn’t his fault that Starfleet Captains were rigid, unfunny jerks, who couldn’t take a fucking joke. Or you know, something as simple as a _suggestion_.

Then again, his idea of a suggestion, usually consisted of blowing off an order entirely in favor of a different direction. Sometimes, those directions worked.

But most of the time, he was just some _punk_ who couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

This ship was different than the last, smaller and sleeker in design. And brand-spanking new, from what he had heard, not even broken-in. Different, than his usual assignment. When Starfleet had realized that he had no intention on listening to authority, they had started stationing him on clunkers. Part of him wondered if they were just sick of him.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

He frowned, as distant memories of a mother who didn’t give a shit surfaced, before swapping to a much preferable one of his grandfather. He had told his mother he wanted to soar through the skies, and she had laughed, saying that the idea was ridiculous. Which was ironic, coming from a dancer that was _way_ past her prime. But then he mentioned it to his grandfather Nikolai, who had only ruffled his hair and told him that he would need better grades for that.

Guess which parent he had listened too?

But it hadn’t been easy. Starfleet Academy was built upon rule after rule, classes and grades, and an overall sense of superiority that had pissed him the fuck off for years. The moment he had turned eighteen, had been the best moment of his life.

And then his first position had been a miserable disaster. And then the next… and the next… and the--

This would be the seventh time, he would try to do this whole thing called _responsibility_ , and quite frankly, he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Suddenly, the bag hanging on his shoulder felt heavy, and not because of his belongings within it.

“They said that he asked for you personally,” Kenjirou Minami said from next to him. They weren’t friends, and they barely knew each other, but Yuri recognized his face well enough to remember having classes with him at the academy.

“ _Who_?”

Kenjirou blinked, like he was surprised that he had offered to grace him with words. Yuri reminded himself to make these the last words that he ever said to the man. “Captain Nikiforov, of course.”

It was Yuri’s turn to pause and think. Finally, he blurted, “Why the fuck would he do that?”

The other man shrugged. “Not a clue,” he said, before turning and heading towards the gate.

Yuri hated the way that he followed after him, like a pet cat.

 

* * *

 

_I super didn’t design this engine to actually be built._

Really, Otabek Altin hadn’t.

It had started out with mindless tinkering about with temporal mathematics, which had led to theories. He loved theories, and he just _had_ to write them down, and so he did like always. It looked like gibberish to just about anyone except him, and there was literally no credibility to it, aside from the fact that Otabek was a literal _genius_ when it came to these kinds of things.

But then his sister had found the stupid doodle he had made, covered in tons of equations, and she just had the _brilliant_ idea to turn it into Starfleet.

And they had just had the _brilliant_ idea to think that it actually might just work.

Sure, he liked to build engines. He liked the way that tools felt in his hands, and the way that oil and grease stuck to his skin. It was therapeutic, pulling things apart and putting them back together, in the warm heat of the engine room.

He hadn’t _meant_ to design such a thing, and he certainly hadn’t ever planned to _build_ it.

Otabek had met with Starfleet though, despite being a lowly engineer that only fixed warp drives. They had decided to task him with building this ridiculous engine that he had theorized, offering him as many grants and personnel that it would take.

Three years later, and it worked.

Well, at least it had in tests. Moving an entire ship was another matter, and while they had run test drives for months, throwing an entire crew aboard and calling it a mission was _something else entirely._ And he wasn’t sure that he wanted that responsibility.

He didn’t do _people_ really, he only got along with engines and his sister Maya-- and that was only because they were _twins_. He had never liked serving on starships, and after having a team of scientists and engineers forced to work with him for several years straight…

Well, he wanted some _alone_ time. And it didn’t look like he was going to get any.

He had to admit though, the USS Agape was just as impressive looking, as the first time he had seen her, for her initial testing.

Maya leaned against him, waiting a long moment before saying, “You know, if you think any harder, you just might break your face.” He didn’t warrant that with a response, prompting her to frown slightly. “Really, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“The first time we took this engine on a test run, the Temporal Warp Drive blew out half of the ship’s hull.”

He eyebrows rose high and she let out a low whistle. “You told me that the first test hadn’t gone well, but damn _Beka_.”

“The _second_ time we tested it, the engine imploded instead, throwing half of the ship into a space-time rift that had been ripped into the atmosphere. It took nearly three days to close it, and make sure nothing was damaged beyond repair.”

“And…?”

“The USS _Eros_ was immediately decommissioned, and this one was built.”

Maya hummed lightly at that. “You’ve never been a worry-wart, Beka,” she chastised.

“Even if the Agape has been through extensive testing, that was with a skeleton crew. This time around there’s not ten people, there’s a hundred.” He pointed to her. “Even civilians.”

“And think of the future, when this engine works out _perfectly_. You’ll have literally changed space travel!”

“ _If_ , not when.”

“No _,_ ” Maya hissed, “ _when_.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him shrewdly. “This isn’t about the ship at all, is it?”

“I want to go home, and I want to work on my bike.”

“Why work on a bike, _when you could change history?_ ”

Otabek to sighed, before looking at her. “I never wanted to change history, Maya. _You_ made that decision for me.” When she had turned over his work to his commanding officer.

She leaned forward and patted his chest. “Which is why I’m here,” she said sweetly. “I take responsibility for my actions.”

“You’ve always wanted to own a lounge aboard a starship. This isn’t a punishment for you, it’s your damn dream. What was it you used to say? _All Starfleet and no play, makes Maya very bored_?”

She pulled back with a grunt. “Not everyone is an anti-social technophile of a hermit, who would rather grease up an engine, instead of a woman, if you know what I mean.”

“Maya--”

“You know Beka, I was only thinking of you. I was tired of seeing you mope around your garage--”

“ _I don’t mope--_ ”

“--covered in who knows what. You’re an engineering genius, made top marks at Starfleet and could have your _pick_ of a Command, and what do you do? _You tinker with engines_ all day in a dirty jumpsuit, and you let that rank go to waste. You’re worth so much more, Beka.”

Otabek sighed. “It’s not about _worth_ , Maya. I _like_ fixing engines. I _like_ working alone. I prefer it.”

Maya only shook her head, tutting at him. “What a waste,” she said with humor. And then she left him, heading for the gate. Otabek sighed again, this time dragging his hand down his face.

New goal-- get to the ship, find the engine room, _never leave_.

When put that way, it didn’t sound so bad.

 


	2. Give Me Some Space (To Party)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MissMarquin here! The initial reaction to the story, makes us (and I think I speak for both of us here) so excited to work on this. Everyone had the ideal of, 'You had me at Star Trek'. Well, we had ourselves at Star Trek too, I promise. And without further adieu, we bring you Chapter Two. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Give Me Some Space (To Party)**

 

* * *

 

 

Good food, a witty bartender, and an endless supply of alcoholic drinks were the only things one needed for a successful party.

Victor Nikiforov clung to these words of wisdom as if they were his personal anchor, and by God and all the other deities of the universe - he really hoped that this would work out.

The party had been Christophe’s idea, and although Victor had been hesitant about it at first, he had to admit that his friend was right. A party on the ship the night before take off would give everyone the opportunity to get to know the rest of the crew in an informal setting, without the ever-present danger of space lurking behind their backs. And he would get the chance to show himself the way he was, and not start this mission as _Captain Nikiforov._

It didn’t help much, though. The moment the party had started, the crew had proposed a toast to him calling him Captain Victor Nikiforov, and only after giving a small speech he had convinced them to call him Victor for the evening. No one knew when times as carefree as this would come again, and they were determined to make the best of it.

Victor let his eyes wander over the crowd, the crew, the people that he would call his family from now on for the next five years. And what a mix it was! Old and young, men, women, and everything in between, humans, hybrids, even a Mankonian warrior, physicists, botanists, linguists, nurses, soldiers, and many more. The list seemed endless, and Victor found it absolutely amazing. The opportunity of a lifetime, Yakov had called it. And oh, he was _so_ right.

Not even in his wildest dreams he would have dared to hope for a ship of his own. A crew of his own. But there he was, the youngest captain in the history of Starfleet, with a brand new ship, and a brand new mission on top of that. Victor had always wanted to do research trips into space, not military actions like his father. No, Victor was far too peaceful for that, albeit he had been called a military strategic mastermind by several heads of the Academy. Exceeding all expectations in an exam or successfully navigating a military operation from Earth was one thing - being responsible for an entire crew and leading them into an actual battle was something entirely different. His father was made for these kinds of things, always staying calm even when staring death in the eye.

Had his father ever shed a tear?

Victor doubted it.

It was true that he had the potential to follow his father’s footsteps, to become a high ranking military official just like him, but Victor had never wanted that. The mystery of space, of different worlds and species had always interested him more than military strategies and plotting attacks. It had taken Victor exactly one battle to realise that. Although he had received the highest honours for his actions, and was now considered a national hero in Russia, Victor did not find himself to be proud of what he had done.

Blood could not easily be washed off one’s hands.

Victor shook his head, reminding himself of the purpose of the mission that was waiting for them. Exploring an unknown part of the universe, not too far away from home but dangerous nonetheless. No one knew what kinds of planets they would find, the people they would encounter, the cultures they would hopefully get to explore. Victor couldn’t help but smile at that thought. Yes, this was the thrill of the unknown, and oh, that was exactly what he lived and breathed for.

Did the others feel the same, he wondered?

His eyes fell onto a dark figure in a corner, a glass of what seemed to be water in their hands. Victor leant forward on his barstool, smiling to himself as he recognised the man in the corner as the one matching the file he had studied the most. Yuuri Katsuki, xenolinguist. Twenty-five years of age, Japanese. Co-editor of the 68th edition of the Matsushiba Universal Dictionary for Alien Languages.

And a damn fine piece of eye candy.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, BEHOLD THE SEXIEST MAN OF THE UNIVERSE!”

 _Oh dear Lord,_ Victor thought, albeit with a chuckle as he withdrew his gaze from the xenolinguist and turned around. He saw Christophe in the middle of the lounge, clad only in his boxers, reaching for the pole in the middle - had he replicated that? - and lasciviously moving against it. The women screamed in excitement as Christophe began to dance, winking at both men and women alike as he did what he could do best.

Victor had expected nothing less of him.

“Who… who the hell is that?” A short, Asian-looking woman had appeared beside him, watching Christophe perform his famous ‘Too hot for space’ pole dance in the centre of the lounge with both horror and fascination in her eyes.

“Christophe Giacometti,” Victor replied. “Our Chief Medical Officer.”

The woman stared at him. “He’s what?!”

“Oh, don’t worry about him,” Victor laughed, leaning against the bar. “He’ll be sober tomorrow. I’ve seen him do worse things than that. He could perform a C-Section in this state, believe me.”

The woman shivered, instinctively wrapping her arms around her stomach. “Good lord,” she muttered.

“What was your name again?” Victor asked her, grabbing a drink from the bar and handing it to her. “I don’t think we have met before, haven’t we?”

“There you are!” A large, sturdy man had approached the woman from behind and wound his arm around her, resting his chin on top of her head. “Captain,” he said, nodding at Victor in acknowledgement.

“Nishigori!” Victor grinned. “So this must be your infamous wife Yuuko!”

“Indeed, she is,” Takeshi confirmed, taking a sip from Yuuko’s drink. “Damn, that’s good stuff. Oi, Miss?” He raised his voice slightly to get the bartender’s attention. “What’s this stuff?”

“Schorian whiskey,” Maya replied, pushing another glass towards them. “Captain’s favourite, right?”

“It is, yes,” Victor replied and took a sip from his own glass, the alcohol burning pleasantly in his throat. “Otabek introduced me to that one. Where is he, anyway?”

Maya huffed. “You know very well where he is,” she said, crossing her arms as she leant against the cupboard behind her. “ _The engine doesn’t double-check itself, Maya_ ,” she parroted and rolled her eyes. “Can’t get that hermit to socialise.”

“Maybe I can,” Victor said with a shrug and reached behind the bar, pulling out two bottles of beer. “I haven’t talked to him in a while anyway. I must admit that I missed this stoic stare of his.”

“I bet he missed you too, but don’t tell him I’ve said that,” Maya laughed. “Tell him that if he doesn’t come up to eat anytime soon I’ll make him scrambled eggs right on top of his beloved warp core.”

“Will do,” Victor grinned and walked away from the bar towards the exit, holding the bottles of beer loosely in his right hand. As he glanced at the corner once more, he saw that Yuuri Katsuki was not alone anymore, now talking to the man Victor identified as Phichit Chulanont, Head Counselor.

Right. He had an appointment with him, tomorrow evening, he reminded himself.

Victor pushed that thought aside, leaving the lounge, determined on his quest to get their grumpy Head Engineer to come out of his shell for once.

 

* * *

 

 

Otabek didn’t do parties. He didn’t do people either, but he could at least manage them in a limited capacity. Parties though? _Gatherings_ ? Having to cater to strangers, with small talk and then there was the whole _listening_ thing, and he just-- well, he just couldn’t do it.

The moment that Maya had mentioned it, he had immediately vetoed any participation, heading straight for his quarters. And once his bag had been dropped off and he changed clothes, he had snuck his way into Main Engineering.

Well, he probably didn’t need to _sneak_ , since the party was optional, as far as he was concerned, but he would avoid it for as long as possible.

And considering who their Captain was, it wouldn’t be much longer until he was found--

“Captain Nikiforov, to Crewman Altin.” The words were crisp and sharp through the room, and Otabek blatantly ignored them. There was a moment and then his Captain paged him through the communicator again. “Otabek, don’t make me come and get you.”

Otabek paused with his tinkering underneath a section of the warp core, looking at the little badge he had set aside. He still opted to ignore it. “Computer,” he asked, and the a control panel by the wall beeped in response. “Initiate program _Leave Me the Fuck Alone_.”

The control panel let out another beep, followed by an automated response of, “ _Commencing program Leave Me the Fuck Alone_.”

The classic rock that started to blare from the speakers was from centuries prior, but it was his comfort. Just like laying underneath an engine, a tool in his hand. Sure, he could have used a modern, newfangled and fancy hand scanner, but where was the fun in that? He preferred to _feel_ his work, the toil of it in his hands. It gave satisfaction, when the job was done.

He didn’t hear Victor, as the doors to Engineering opened, and the Captain stepped inside. Kneeling by where Otabek laid on the floor, Victor dropped his head into view.

“Altin,” he said with good humor, “I do believe there’s a party that you should show your face at.”

Otabek paused, shooting him a glare, and responded by asking the computer to turn up the music. Victor winced slightly, before shouting at the computer to terminate the program.

With a resounding, “ _Program Leave Me the Fuck Alone deactivated,”_ the music cut short and the room fell silent.

Victor laughed and said, “It’s cute, how you love your music more than people.”

“There is nothing _cute_ about Queen,” Otabek practically growled, pulling himself out from under the engine. He was dressed in a denim mechanic’s jumpsuit, undone and tied around his waist. The white T-shirt underneath was covered in smudges of grease, and who knew what else. “ _I’m in Love with my Car_ , is a masterpiece. _Queen_ is undoubtedly the best band to ever grace this quadrant.” He paused and ran a dirty hand through his hair to smooth it back.

“I was only teasing, Otabek,” he said, an amused grin falling across his lips. “Really though, you need to show your face. The rest of the crew is there.”

Otabek crossed the room and picked up a towel in the corner, wiping his hands off. “There’s no _need_ to go to anything that is _optional_. Maya told me as such.”

“Maya also said that if you didn’t show up, she’d come down here and fry an egg on the warp core.”

Otabek immediately paused and said, “ _She wouldn’t_.”

“You know better than anyone that she _definitely would_.”

Otabek sighed, before leaning against a comm panel and requesting a glass of water from the replicator. “And you know better than anyone, that I’m perfectly content to stay here and look over these last checks before we set out.”

“Which is tomorrow,” Victor pointed out. “Come up and mingle--”

“I don’t mingle. I never _mingle_.”

Victor tapped his chin thoughtfully. “And if I made it an order?”

“Fuck off, Nikiforov,” Otabek immediately snapped, his eyes narrowing shrewdly.

“That’s  _Captain_ to you,” Victor teased. “But I am making it an order. Get upstairs Crewman, or get thrown in the brig.” He paused, looking Otabek over, before sighing. “But at least change before you do. You look like you’ve spent a week in a cave.”

Before Otabek could protest, Victor turned on his heel and was out the door. Otabek dragged a hand down his face, not caring the mess that it made. Victor wanted to pull rank and force him to a party, pretending to be a good little crewman?

Well, two could play that game.

 

* * *

 

This wasn’t like any party Yuri had ever been too, and he had been to _lots_.

There wasn’t the pounding baseline of music, heavy in the air. People weren’t dancing, grinding close enough together that it _might_ be considered indecent. Those were the kind of parties that he had frequented, while in the academy.

This one wasn’t even tame, it was outright childish.

“Who made you swallow a lemon?”

Yuri turned his gaze towards the bartender, looking her up and down. At least she was cute, her straight black hair pulled into a neat little plait. Her eyes were dark, filled with mirth, and her lips were curved into an amused smile.

He was leaning against the bar, near the corner of the room. “This is _boring_. All everyone is doing, is standing around and chatting. What is this, _grade school_?”

Maya hummed lightly at that, her hands making quick work of the bottles behind the counter. In a moment, she had poured a cocktail into a short glass, and slid it towards him. “I promise you, there’s nothing grade school about that drink.”

Yuri smirked at that, reaching out and taking the glass. He downed a good portion, the liquid burning as it slid down his throat. He nearly dropped the glass, choking. Maya only laughed at him, before moving to wipe her hands off on a towel. “Don’t talk so big, if you aren’t ready to walk the line, kid,” she howled with laughter.

He had been about to snarl a retort at her, when the doors into the lounge opened, and in strode Victor. The man slid right to the bar and ordered some type of alien bourbon. Yuri watched him carefully through narrowed eyes, sipping at his drink with more care than before.

“You must be our illustrious Captain Nikiforov,” Yuri finally said, motioning towards the rank tags on his collar.

“And _you_ must be Ensign Plisetsky,” Victor said, without missing a beat. Maya returned with his drink, and he grabbed it, swirling the glass gently. “You know, out of all the personnel files I read, yours was the most interesting.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“It was the longest, and filled with more infractions of authority than I’ve seen in a long time.”

Yuri hummed at that. “You know, that would send most Captains running, but apparently you requested me.”

“I requested the best navigator around. That’s apparently you,” Victor said, but Yuri regarded him suspiciously. “Truly, your reputation precedes you.”

“Then you should know to stay the fuck away,” Yuri replied, not caring that he was talking to his superior officer. As far as he was concerned, he wasn’t on duty yet.

But Victor only regarded him with amusement, his brows lifting slightly. “If people stayed _the fuck away_ , then I wouldn’t be standing here on this ship, as its _captain_. I wasn’t lying when I said your file was interesting-- it nearly rivals my own.”

“Like you ever got into any trouble,” Yuri scoffed. “You look as clean as a whistle, old man.”

Victor opened his mouth to reply, when the doors to the lounge opened once more. Otabek strolled into the space, still wearing his grease splattered jumpsuit, and white shirt. His hands were shoved into the pockets, and despite his claim that he hated parties, he seemed to instantly fit in.

But he hadn’t bothered to even clean his face, and Victor immediately frowned. Turning back to Yuri, he said, “Hold that thought, I have to go have a quick chat.”

Yuri’s gaze followed Victor as he stalked off, but stopped when it met Otabek. And he stared. And stared. And kept staring.

The man radiated an intensity that set Yuri’s hair on end, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief as Victor went to corner him.

Maya appeared next to him again, polishing a glass with a dish towel. It was a long moment before she spoke. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer. You can hide it in your bunk, and stare all you want.”

“ _I_ _don’t want anything to stare at,”_ Yuri immediately sputtered, but the words weren’t remotely convincing. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t _gay_. He had been with tons of women, beautiful, smart and with _legs up to here_.

But this man was something else entirely, covered grease, stocky with just enough muscle in the arm, and his hair slicked back over a sleek undercut. And Yuri couldn’t stop staring.

It bothered him.

“I’d stay away from him,” Maya finally said. “He doesn’t do people.”

“Says who?” Yuri found himself asking, before he could stop himself.

“Says _he_ , for years. I think I saw him go on a date once, but the girl never came around again.”

 _Girl_. So the hunky, greased up mechanic wasn’t gay. _Good_ , Yuri thought. That would make this whole, uncharted waters thing a lot easier. He could just ignore it. “How would you know that?” he finally asked, realizing the depth of what she had inferred.

Maya shrugged. “I might have been born first, but he _is_ my brother.”

Yuri narrowed his eyes at her. “So what, you’re telling me to stay away?”

She smirked at that. “Do I need to? I thought there was nothing there?”

“That’s enough from you, you old hag,” he snapped, downing the rest of his drink. It burned the entire way down, but at least it distracted him from mister dark and brooding.

At least, until Yuri looked at him again.

And found that no matter what he did, he couldn’t _stop._

 

* * *

 

Yuuri was sure that he had definitely come to the wrong place.

Space was supposed to be terrifying. Hell, it was the most destructive force out there, the very environment that screamed “Stay away from me” - but these people seemed to celebrate just that.

“Five years in space, a dream come true!” He heard someone say, and couldn’t help but retreat further into the corner he had found for himself, holding onto his glass of water for dear life. Five years in space were anything but a dream come true to him. If anything, it was a living nightmare, specifically designed just to torment him. Yuuko was wrong. This was so _not_ worth it. No amount of money could justify the dangers of space travel.

Yuuri groaned, leaning back against the wall. Why couldn’t he just study space from Earth, like any other sane person?

Yes, that was what this was. A space trip amongst lunatics, with him being the only sane person around.

His parents had been overjoyed, of course. The moment the letter had arrived in the mail, his mother had ripped it open, screaming through the entire house. Yuuri was sure that the rest of the street had heard her as well. So proud, yes, that was what she had said. So very proud of her Yuuri, going off to study alien languages in space. That night, his parents had thrown him a spontaneous party with lots of sake and even more katsudon. Yuuri’s stomach grumbled at the thought of his mother’s cooking, and the thought of not getting any of it for the next five years did not make it any better.

At least Yuuko and Takashi were with him, he told himself as he took a small sip of his water. He had chosen to stay away from the alcoholic drinks on purpose tonight, not wanting to make a fool of himself, like _that one time_ at the Academy. Yuuri shook his head at the thought. No, he would not allow that to repeat itself at his workplace.

Suddenly, Yuuri believed to feel someone’s eyes on him, and as he raised his head, he saw the Captain sitting at the bar, laughing as he watched the man by the pole - why did this lounge even have one?! - strip almost completely whilst yelling about himself being the sexiest man of the universe. Yuuri did not know who he was, but the Captain’s name was one he was familiar with.

Victor Nikiforov was a living legend. The youngest Captain in the history of Starfleet to get his very own ship and crew. Son of Admiral Alexei Nikiforov, and the famous xenolinguist Devora Nikiforova. The latter was a name Yuuri was very familiar with. In fact, he had studied her work by heart, drawing inspiration for his own projects from it. And although he had never met her, he was sure that the Captain had gotten his brilliance from her.

Perhaps his good looks as well.

Yuuri jumped at his own thoughts, shaking his head vigorously as a familiar voice reached his ear.

“Yuuri!!!”

A short young man with caramel skin, shiny black hair, and a winning smile had appeared beside him, and Yuuri’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Phichit!” He exclaimed and immediately pulled the other man into a hug. “How… what are you…”

“Surprise!” Phichit laughed and hugged Yuuri tightly. “What I’m doing here? I’m the Head Counselor, Yuuri! Did you not read the list of crew members that they sent around?”

Yuuri scratched the back of his head. “Uh, not really, no… I thought I’d chicken out but…”

“But here you are!” Phichit laughed and patted his shoulder heartily. “Oh man, this will be great! Five years in space, and we’re working together! This will be like the good old days at the Academy, you’ll see! Although I was surprised to see your name on the list, though. I thought you hated space?”

“I don’t hate space,” Yuuri sighed. “I just hate being _in_ space.”

“Time to lose your fear of it then,” Phichit said and leant against the wall beside Yuuri, watching the dancer on the pole as he turned over and spread his legs into a perfect split - much to the excitement of his mostly female audience. “So Christophe really didn’t exaggerate when he called himself the party queen of space.”

“Christophe Giacometti?” Yuuri asked. “Isn’t he the Chief Medical Officer?”

“The one and only,” Phichit confirmed. “We met a while ago in San Francisco at a conference. And oh boy, you should have seen what he did at the party afterwards, he stripped completely bare and shoved the bottle up his-”

“What was the conference about?” Yuuri asked quickly, not wanting to hear more about the personal partying preferences of the man that would be responsible for their physical health.

“Psychological procedures and how they can be combined with medical services provided in space,” Phichit answered.

“That sounds very much like you,” Yuuri said with a small smile. Knowing that Phichit would be on the USS Agape with him was an immense relief. It was always nice to have a friend around, especially one like Phichit. The Thai always knew how to cheer him up, or what to say or do whenever Yuuri got too anxious.

Phichit seemed to know what Yuuri was thinking. “You know you can always come to me, right?” He told him. “Just come to my office or send me a message when it gets too bad.”

“I know,” Yuuri assured him, taking a small sip from his water. “It’s much better these days, really. I did this mindfulness thing you recommended. It really helps.”

“It really does!” Phichit smiled. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. But you know what drives _me_ insane? This ship doesn’t even have wi-fi! How am I supposed to post to Instagram?!”

At that, Yuuri burst into genuine laughter. Of all the ancient things to survive the test of time, _Instagram_ had to be one of them.  “Only you would worry about Instagram in space, Phichit! Only you!”

Phichit chuckled, wrapping an arm loosely around Yuuri’s shoulder as he pulled him along to

meet some of the other crew members, introducing his friend to the ones that he already knew. Being with Phichit made every seem a lot less frightening, Yuuri thought to himself as he listened to the jokes of a man that had only introduced himself as JJ.

Perhaps, being in space was not that bad. Still frightening, yes, and also incredibly dangerous - but not that bad at all.

He looked back over his shoulder at the bar. The Captain was back, now arguing with a guy that looked as if he had straight crawled out of an engine. Next to him stood a skinny young man with blonde hair and a stare that could have killed thousands instantly.

“Three legends in one spot,” Phichit whispered. “Victor Nikiforov, Yuri Plisetsky, and Otabek Altin.”

JJ leaned forward. “I heard he literally built the engine by accident.”

“I must admit he’s a damn fine specimen,” Christophe said as he came to stand beside them, a little out of breath after his performance at the pole. His eyes then fell onto Yuuri, and he surprisingly gently grabbed his chin. “Hmmm, and who do we have here?” He purred, a mixture of curiosity and passion in his eyes.

“Legend number four,” Phichit grinned and put an arm around Yuuri, who seemed at loss for words. “Yuuri Katsuki. The finest xenolinguist in the world.”

“Legend number four, hm?” Christophe smirked, letting go of Yuuri again.

“A ship of legends,” JJ said, folding his arms. “We should toast to that.”

And so, they raised their glasses - albeit Yuuri a bit reluctantly - and toasted to their upcoming mission. They did not know what adventures were waiting for them, what planets they would find or what kind of people they would encounter.

But they knew they were in for one _hell_ of a ride.

 


	3. When Push Comes to Shove, Shove Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MissMarquin and I had far too much fun writing this, yelling at each other between paragraphs (mostly out of sheer excitement). This is the AU we never thought we'd need, but oh boy, we're so glad we decided to make this happen. 
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos that we got! There are so many Trekkies in this fandom, we had no idea!
> 
> Also, I'd like to point out once more that this is merely Star Trek "inspired", and not a precise AU. Hence, they have Instagram. And to be honest, Phichit needs it like oxygen.
> 
> Now sit back, fasten your seatbelts, and get ready for take-off!
> 
> \--theangryuniverse
> 
> MissMarquin here; I do my best with technobabble and fake sci-fi mumbo jumbo, but I have no idea how any of this shit works. Have fun!
> 
> Content warning: Mentions of PTSD and anxiety.

_**When Push Comes to Shove, Shove Hard** _

* * *

 

For Yuuri, there was nothing more terrifying than waking up and seeing nothing but darkness outside his window.

On earth, the darkness wouldn’t bother him much - it was just nighttime. Nothing to be worried about. He would spend hours watching the night sky, naming the stars and the people that lived on them, and the languages that they spoke. But as he looked out of the small window of his room on the Agape and stared out into the night, he became once more aware of the fact that he was _in_ space. A cold shiver ran down his spine, and Yuuri immediately shut the blinds.

The less he got to see of space in his free time, the better.

He had slept surprisingly well. The bed was large and soft, big enough for two people, but Yuuri preferred to sleep curled up into a ball in the very corner. It was warm under the blankets, and Yuuri kept his eyes closed for a little longer to prepare for the day.

Yes, the big day.

The day of their take-off.

With him as the Head Communication Officer.

How on Earth had Starfleet ever gotten the idea that he was the right choice for such a crucial position?

Yuuri sighed deeply and rubbed his face as he sat up, reaching for his glasses. Reluctantly, he got out of bed and padded to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Yuuri was not a morning person, and so he was glad that he did not have to share his room with anyone. He could even have his breakfast his room, and that was the first thing he did once he had flushed the toilet. The replicator did a surprisingly good job at producing a bowl of miso soup and some rice - he never needed much more than that in the morning. After getting dressed, Yuuri sat down at the table and began to eat, mindlessly scrolling through the newsfeed on his phone, using the wifi for as long as they still had it. Once they left the station, they would no longer have access to the internet.

He could already hear Phichit whine.

Just then, his communicator buzzed, and Phichit’s voice greeted him cheerfully.

“Yuuri-kun! Are you up?”

Yuuri yawned and reached for his communicator to answer, running a hand through his hair.

“Yes, Phichit?”

“Oh great!” Phichit chirped. “Just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t oversleep, like that one time before the exam-”

“Oh God, don’t remind me,” Yuuri muttered. “I’m having breakfast. No worries.”

“Alright!” He could practically hear his friend grin from ear to ear. “Remember, Yuuri, you’re the best xenolinguist on this ship, probably in the galaxy!”

“Now don’t exaggerate-”

“And Captain Nikiforov is a big fan of you already. You can do it! I believe in you!”

Yuuri smiled lightly. “Thanks, Phichit. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Let’s meet for lunch, yes?”

“Yes, sounds good.”

“Alright! See you later!”

The communicator went silent, and Yuuri yawned once more. It was nice to have a friend like Phichit on board, although his cheerfulness could be a little annoying in the early morning. At the Academy, they had shared a room for a year, and it had taken Phichit some time to realise that not everyone was a morning person like him, and that Yuuri could be quite mean if one woke him up too early.

On the Agape, his shift started at 8 o’clock in the morning. He could live with that.

Finishing his meal, Yuuri went to brush his teeth and looked at himself in the mirror once more. He looked acceptable, nothing more, nothing less. His glasses framed his face perfectly, and they were, in his opinion, making him seem smarter than he actually was. There were so many xenolinguists out there, and he could think of at least five that would kill to land his position. Serving on the USS Agape, under the command of the illustrious Victor Nikiforov.

And they would be much more suitable for this job as well.

Yuuri turned off the light and left the bathroom, absentmindedly running a hand through his hair as he grabbed his badge and communicator. On the way out, he stopped by the mirror once more, staring at his reflection. His hair did actually look _good_ this way, slicked back and showing off his face. Yuuri leant forward, taking off his glasses to study his reflection thoroughly.

“Okaa-san was right,” he murmured. “It’s a shame I can’t do contacts.”

With one last glance at the framed picture on his bedside table, Yuuri left his room, ready to face his first day as Head Communications Officer.

 

\----

 

He barely looked left or right as he made his way to the Bridge, an impressive part of the ship that would be his workplace for the next five years. The console lining the walls was brand-new and shiny, not a single fingerprint visible on the screens that were waiting for them. A few of the other crew members were already there, including their First Officer, Seung-Gil Lee, who greeted Yuuri with a brief nod and then returned to checking his paperwork. Yuuri was glad the man wouldn’t force him to talk, and so, he made his way over to his workspace and sat down, starting the computer.

It booted within two seconds, and Yuuri stared at it in awe.

This computer was the best of the best.

Taking a deep breath, Yuuri began to rearrange the user interface according to his personal preference, losing himself in the little details as suddenly, a cheerful voice boasted through the room.

“Lieutenant Katsuki!”

Yuuri almost fell off his chair.

Captain Victor Nikiforov was standing beside him, beaming down at him as if Yuuri’s sight was the best thing to have happened to him so far. Yuuri immediately got up and greeted his superior respectfully, but the Captain merely laughed.

“No need to be so formal, Lieutenant, we’re all sitting in the same boat, after all!” He said. “Or well, flying on the same ship, actually.” The Captain laughed about his own joke and scratched his head. Yuuri stared at him, unable to take his eyes off the extraordinarily beautiful man in front of him.

“I realised I did not get the opportunity to introduce myself personally to you last night at the party. Unfortunately, I was quite occupied with our Head Engineer,” the Captain said and clasped his hands behind his back. “I requested you for this post personally, you see. I read your dissertation and-”

“You did?” Yuuri blurted out, looking up at the taller man in surprise.

The Captain began to smile. “Why, yes, I did,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “It was a fine piece of work, and I enjoyed it immensely. Although I must admit I didn’t understand half of it, as it was written in _that_ language.” He laughed, resting his hands on his hips. “What language was it again that you were talking about?”

“D-donwar,” Yuuri said nervously, and the Captain laughed again, the sound of it seeming like heavenly chimes to Yuuri.

“Yes, _Donwar_!” Captain Nikiforov said with an excited sparkle in his eyes. “I only studied the standard languages at the Academy, so I really don’t know anything about it. But you seem to speak it with ease, that’s so impressive!”

“I-is it?” Yuuri asked, swallowing thickly at the Captain’s surprising excitement.

“Oh yes!” Captain Nikiforov assured him. “I’m very glad to have you on board with me. Only the very best xenolinguist for this post! Welcome to the USS Agape, Commander. I really hope our collaboration will be successful.”

He offered Yuuri his hand, and the young man shook it nervously, barely able to believe that he was actually speaking to the infamous Victor Nikiforov - and that Victor Nikiforov actually knew who he was.

“I’m looking forward to it, Captain,” Yuuri said. Victor Nikiforov beamed at him and then turned away, making his way across the room to the Captain’s seat, patting the shoulder of Commander Lee as he walked past him.

“Seung-Gil! Are we ready to start this adventure?” He asked, earning a disapproving look from the First Officer for using his first name.

“Technically, yes,” Commander Lee said at first, but then he paused. “Actually, no.”

“Huh?” The Captain sat down, looking at the First Officer like a confused puppy. “Why not?”

“ _Someone_ is missing,” Yuuri heard Seung-Gil Lee say, and he turned around in surprise. And indeed, there was someone missing:

The seat of their Chief Navigator, Yuri Plisetsky, was empty.

 

* * *

 

Yuri liked to sleep in, and it turned out that the beds on the Agape, were in fact, _very soft_ . And the blankets were warm, and unlike the older ships he’d been stuck on as of late, the climate controls actually _work_.  So instead of waking bright and early like the rest of the crew, he was burritoed into his blankets, his hair unbound and loose about him.

And he didn’t want to move. He _refused_ to move in fact, and he didn’t care if he was a little late to his post. Navigators were useless, unless they were on the bridge. All they did was double and triple check coordinates, and occasionally operate the transporters. There was little glamour to the job, so he chose to take it easy.

Maybe it’d get him kicked off before they even left.

“Commander Lee, to Ensign Plisetsky.” The words crackled through the room, and Yuri groaned at the sound. His communicator wasn’t that far off, resting near the bedside on the nightstand. He had barely talked to the first officer the night before, but he had quickly realized that he was strict and rigid, and the type of officer that he avoided with a wide berth. Or shot rude gestures at behind their back. “ _Ensign_ ,” the communicator chirped once more, the Commander’s tone a little bit tighter.

With a sigh, Yuri rolled over, and slapped at the comm badge. “Is there a problem Commander?” he snarled groggily.

There was a pause, and then, “You were scheduled for your post nearly a half hour ago.” Another pause. “Were you _asleep?”_

“Half-hour ago? I don’t remember such an early call.” And honestly he couldn’t, but then again… he hadn’t really looked at the schedule either. It never changed so there was no point, not to mention he was the kind of man that was chronically late to everything.

“The typical shift for a bridge officer starts at 0800, Ensign.”

At that, Yuri shot up in bed, confused. “For a _what_?”

“What do you mean, _for what_?” Commander Lee asked.

“You said the words _bridge officer_ ,” Yuri said, not quite comprehending. He was still half asleep, he _had_ to be.

“Ensign Plisetsky, I’m well aware of your past antics, and I’m not amused by them. I expect you up in by 0900,” Commander Lee sighed. Yuri could imagine the man’s stoic gaze twitching slightly.

The line went dead, and Yuri knew that if he tried to page him back, the Commander wouldn’t answer. Suddenly, the room was suffocating, and the bed wasn’t comfy anymore, and all he could hear were the words _bridge officer_.

He jumped out of bed and dressed in haste. Not because he wanted to redeem himself, but because he was damn sure that the Commander had made one hell of a mistake.

When he arrived on the bridge, he wasn’t any more awake, yawning deeply as he through the doors. Everyone paused at their stations to look at him, and he bared his teeth, about to snarl back, when someone stepped into his path.

Commander Seung-Gil Lee was shorter than him, but radiated a stoic energy that would have made most shrink away. Except Yuri. He met the man’s look with a steady gaze of his own, unimpressed by Lee’s stern expression.

“Your hair is too long for Starfleet Regulation,” Commander Lee finally said, pointing to Yuri’s hair, which was tied into a tight braid and hanging down his back.

“Does it look like I give a shit? Tell me what you meant earlier.”

Lee blinked, his brows furrowing slightly. “I don’t understand.”

“You said something about bridge officers. What does that have to do with me?” Yuri hissed, leaning closer to him.

The Commander opened his mouth to say something, but then paused, like he had realized something. “Ensign, did you read your briefing?”

“What? No, what’s the point? They’re all the same, when it comes to me.”

Something came across the Commander’s face, and he looked like he was about to laugh. At least, that’s what Yuri thought it might look like. In reality, it was the subtle twitch of one of his cheeks, a tiny crack in the man’s stony exterior.

“Plisetsky, _you’re_ the Chief Navigator.”

Yuri blinked at him, and then burst out laughing. And then kept laughing. “You’re fucking insane, Commander,” he finally said, not caring if it was super against protocol. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his uniform, trying to distract himself. “No one in their right mind would ever--”

“Ensign!” The Captain’s voice made them both pause and turn to him, Yuri immediately scowling. No one should be _that_ energetic in the morning. Victor clapped a hand across his back. “Pay no mind to the Commander here-- everyone gets _one_ reprieve.”

“This is one hell of a joke, old man,” Yuri snapped, pulling away. “What did he mean by _Chief Navigator_? Someone’s made a mistake.”

Victor blinked, but pulled his hand away. “Then that someone would be me,” he said, with a slight frown. “The Commander isn’t wrong. I requested you for this position personally.”

Yuri _wished_ he was dreaming. He _wished_ that he could just wake up from this, because if there was one thing that he didn’t do, it was answer to authority. And bridge officers had to do that. They had to follow the rules, like good little kittens, and that was something that he was _terrible_ at.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” he finally blurted.

“Why _wouldn’t_ I?”

What a stupid question. “There are a million reasons why,” Yuri replied. “And all if them point straight to me.”

Victor’s lips quirked into a tiny smile at that. “Again, _why not you_?” Yuri floundered for a response, but words didn’t come to him. “If you don’t have an answer,” Victor continued with, “then at least take your post. We were supposed to depart a half hour ago, and the station is getting antsy.”

“You seriously expect me to pilot this thing?” Yuri sputtered, following after Victor as he walked towards the Captain’s chair. “I haven’t flown anything proper in a year!”

All he’d ever done for Starfleet was mark star charts, and plot courses. It’s all he’d been deemed worthy of, due to his damn mouth and lack of respect for authority.

“Did you _forget_ ?” Victor asked. “Or was it someone else who aced the _Hellion Turnabout_ , crossing the finish line and setting a universal record?”

Yuri gaped at him. People never mentioned that, they always _forgot_ , despite it being in his file. They usually didn’t get past the first four pages of regulation violations. “I haven’t forgotten a damn thing,” he finally muttered.

“Forgotten a damn thing, _Captain_ ,” Victor replied with ease. He motioned to the front control panel. “Well then, to your station, Ensign. And prepare for departure.”

With the tone that Victor had used, Yuri knew that he couldn’t say no. No amount of disrespect he could muster, would change this Captain’s mind. He turned to regard the pilot’s chair, swallowing slightly. Of course he hadn’t forgotten how to pilot a damn ship, but this was--

This was different.

He sat down, activating the panel. The buttons whirred softly under his fingers, and his heart lurched. He had hated those old ships, and those cranky captains because he had missed this. He had joined Starfleet to _fly_ and he had _missed_ it.

He knew that he had disappointed his mother. And then his grandfather.

Yuri looked back once more towards the Captain. Victor wore an easy smile on his face, looking like he had belonged in the Captain’s seat his entire damn life.

He didn’t particularly like the man, but he found that he wanted to do him right. And this stupid crew. And the stupid ship. It was a disgusting feeling.

But he wouldn’t disappoint them, he _refused_ to.

Turning back to the comm panel, he flipped a few switches. “Have the final checks been made, Captain?”

“Affirmative. We’re just waiting on clearance from Main Engineering.”

“Heard,” Yuri said easily, adjusting a few more controls. Had he known that he would be the damn pilot, he would have done this the night before. Despite the time it had been though, the panel felt right underneath his fingertips, and he felt himself slip into the role of pilot easily.

He took a deep breath, and then he smiled.

And he hoped to high heaven that no one had fucking seen it.

 

* * *

 

Otabek was too busy to babysit someone.

He was doing his final checks, reading outputs, _making sure that the fucking engine wouldn’t blow_. So far this Temporal Warp Drive had proven to be incredibly fickle and unreliable, even if Starfleet said that it was ready.

Otabek didn’t think that it was, so he was checking everything as many times as he possibly could.

So when Crewman Minami had shown up, claiming that he was assigned to the engine room, Otabek nearly punched the damn wall. Then he reminded himself to punch Victor later, because the Captain _knew_ that he worked alone.

The kid was the definition of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and he knew that he was going to be an absolute pain in the ass.

“Crewman Minami--”

“Please, just Kenjirou, otherwise it just sounds so… _formal_.”

Otabek blinked at the boy. “I _like_ formal,” he grunted, before motioning him in. “I don’t need an intern.”

“Honestly, I’d prefer to be in communications, but I was cut out to be an engineer they said, so…. Here I am!”

Otabek practically twitched at Kenjirou’s chipper attitude. “Fine,” he finally sighed. “But there are rules. I’m Crewman Altin, nothing _else_ ,” he said. “You do what I say, keep quiet and let me play my music, understood?”

Kenjirou nodded enthusiastically, eager to please. “Have you checked the Warp Core Manifolds yet?” he asked, leaning closer to the engine.

Otabek cocked his head to the side. “Not yet. I leave it until last, because I have to pull the panel off to do it.”

“No need! I can easily reach.” Kenjirou held his hands up, wiggling his fingers. “I have tiny hands!” As if to show off, he stuck his hands into the _right_ place, with no resistance. “They seem to be in place,” Kenjirou said, slipping his hand back out. “I trust that the antimatter radiation is reading normal? What about the mechanism that causes the temporal fission. Is it all in order?”

Otabek must have looked surprised, because the boy blushed bright pink. “I read the manual. And the blueprints,” Kenjirou said, like it explained anything. Manuals aside, the mechanics of the engine were difficult to grasp, not to mention---

“The manual is written in Kazakh,” he finally said.

Kenjrou only shrugged, walking around to the opposite side of the engine, looking at the display panel. “Looks like the read out is all good.”

“Kenjirou--”

But Otabek was interrupted by his comm badge. “Captain Nikiforov, to Otabek.”

“Otabek here,” he said, tapping the badge to open the link.

“How is everything down there? Ensign Plisetsky has finally joined us on the bridge--” Otabek could hear the man in question yell out some obscenity in response. “--and we’re preparing for take off. Is the engine in order?”

“So far, so good,” Otabek said, moving to check one last thing. “Everything is online, all the readouts are looking good. She’s ready to fly, whenever you are, Captain.”

“Alright then, Crewman. Standby.”

He muted the link, and suddenly Otabek felt very antsy. The test runs on the Agape had gone very well, but now that there was a full crew on board… well… it didn’t make him feel any better.

“They said that you designed this thing,” Kenjirou said, leaning against one of the control panels. He had enough sense to not touch what he hadn’t asked about. Good.

“I didn’t mean for it to actually be _built_ ,” he admitted. “Some people want their theories to stay just that-- theories.”

“But isn’t it good?”

“Is it?” Otabek shook his head, not expecting an answer. “The last rule that I have is an easy one,” he continued with. “Don’t touch my music, you hear?”

“Aye-aye, Crewman Altin,” Kenjirou, a crooked smile falling across his lips.

“There’s one last thing we need to do,” Otabek said. “ _Computer_ , initiate program _Leave me the Fuck Alone_ , track four.”

Kenjirou raised an eyebrow in amusement, but said nothing. The computer repeated the request, and then music began to blare.

“Otabek, we’re about to initiate countdown,” Victor said through the comm link.

Otabek slapped it, not caring that his music was blasting. “Understood Captain. Engine Room is on standby.”

“Otabek,” Victor said, “ _Is that--_ ” A pause. “ _Queen_? Altin, seriously?”

“Say one more word, Captain, and I’ll rig this entire thing to blow.” And he could. And Victor knew that.

“Right then, _Don’t Stop Me Now_ it is. Ensign Plisetsky, prepare to take us out.”

Otabek could barely hear what the man in question snapped back with, but he felt the ship surge slightly, slipping away from the walls of the Station. He pointed to the display by the main core, and Kenjirou ran over to it. “Keep an eye on that, while I make sure this whole thing doesn't blow.”

And it shouldn’t, in theory.

But a theory was all he had, and so far, that theory had only _recently_ worked. Victor started his countdown through the comm badge proper, and Otabek went to the main engine. He tried to pull up the blueprints in his head, tried to remember the calculations and the equations, _tried to remember what needs to happen when and where_.

Because this time, he couldn’t risk half the ship falling apart, because of an unwarranted rip in space.

He flipped a few switches, and then initiated the secondary engines. They flared online, and Kenjirou gave the okay on the readouts that he was monitoring. Then Otabek fired up the main warp core, watching it carefully.

It seemed to be behaving. He slapped at the comm badge once more. “Altin, to Captain Nikiforov. Main engines are online, and functioning. She’s stable.”

“Alright then!” Victor chirped right back. “Ensign, take us out.” The ship pulled away from the station, before idling in position.

Otabek held his breath, waiting. The moment that the engines fully kicked on, and the ship entered warp-- that was the dangerous moment. He felt the ship lurch again, and then pause, the engines beginning to flare.

He flicked a few more switches, and then went to the main control panel. “Ready to initiate warp drive," he said into the comm badge.

“Engaging warp drive,” an unfamiliar voice said over the link, his words lightly accented-- the pilot, he surmised. The engine fired up, kicking into full gear. “Can you-- _Can you turn down that damn music?”_

“Negative.” Otabek adjusted something on his panel, before looking to Kenjirou. “Everything’s holding stable over here,” he said.

“Entering Warp,” Yuri said over the link. “I’m thinking Warp five, just an easy coast.”

Otabek’s lips twisted into a tiny smirk. Easy coast indeed. “Confirming, Warp five,” he said, and then kicked the engines into full drive. Normally setting off wasn’t such an extravagant affair, but no one knew exactly what to expect, since this engine was experimental.

The ship lurched, but didn’t blow up.

And then entered Warp, sailing smoothly along space.

He let out a huge sigh, and Victor whooped in exclamation over the line. He hit the badge to kill the communication once more. He leaned against the panel, his head dropping slightly. So far, so good, but that didn’t mean much.

The Eros had lasted nearly three weeks into its testing, before failing miserably.

“Readouts keep looking good,” Kenjirou said, over by the engine. “Everything seems to be holding for the moment, though I know how tricky this could be. I’ll look over the manual again a little bit later.”

The kid was cheeky, but perhaps he wouldn’t be so terrible to have around. “Kenjirou,” he finally said, stepping around the control panel, and towards the door. “Keep monitoring those numbers, and page me if they change. I’m going to step out for a little bit.”

Normally, he would _never_ leave his child in the hands of another.

“Eh? Where are you going.”

Otabek paused, and looked back. “To have a drink.”

Kenjirou narrowed his eyes at him, the tiniest of bits. “It’s 0900 hours,” he said.

But Otabek only waved at him, before walking through the doorway.

 

* * *

 

_I’m very glad to have you on board with me. Only the very best xenolinguist for this post!_

Victor groaned internally at his words. He could not believe that he had actually said that to Yuuri Katsuki, right on their first day. Of course he was the best xenolinguist in the world, but what if Katsuki now thought of him as the greatest bootlicker of the galaxy?

The soup in front of him was a surprisingly successful attempt of the replicator to make borschtsch, a dish that reminded Victor of his Russian home whenever he ate it. As a child, he had always eaten it together with his grandmother. The woman had passed away a few years ago, but Victor was sure that she would be proud of him, regardless of his past. She had been the one to tell him that he should join Starfleet like his parents, that he should not let his talents go to waste. And yes, he had thrived at the Academy, and his career had turned out to be a remarkable one so far.

He sat alone in the mess hall. A few crewmen he did not recognise sat on the other side of the room, enjoying the last few minutes of their break. Victor had stayed on the bridge longer than the others, not comfortable with eating in the company of his colleagues. Sooner or later he would have to, but he would try to avoid it for as long as possible, until he knew them all well enough. Around lunchtime, Seung-Gil had risen from his seat and had asked him if he wanted to join him, but Victor had politely declined, pretending to look through his files. Seung-Gil had left without another word, and a while later, Katsuki had left as well.

Now that they had all returned to their posts, he had taken the opportunity to have his meal in peace.

His plan was promptly interrupted by their Head Medical Officer, who slipped into his seat opposite of Victor with a delighted hum.

“My, is that borschtsch, Captain?” Christophe asked as he put down his own tray and leant across to table to get a better look at the dish.

Victor looked up. “Why, are you jealous?” He asked, glancing at the portion of steak and rice on the other man’s plate.

“You know me, the Russian diet is too much for my delicate Swiss body,” Christophe sighed dramatically and began to cut his steak. “Speaking of delicate bodies. My, the medical exams were my highlight of the year. The things I’ve seen!” He leant forward. “Seriously, Victor, you need to get a move on and get your hands onto Yuuri Katsuki. That _butt_!”

Victor blushed deeply, clearing his throat and straightening his shoulders. Oh, it was _always_ a mistake to tell Christophe about the people he fancied - although Christophe was his best friend.

“I believe this goes against medical confidentiality,” he said, taking a spoonful of his soup. “I better pretend that I didn’t hear that.”

“Yeah, maybe, but you _did_ want to hear that, admit it.”

“... maybe.”

“I knew it. You’ve got serious hots for the guy.”

“I’m trying to eat, Christophe.”

“Yeah, and I’m just trying to make sure that soon enough you’ll be eating him and not-”

“ _Chris_.”

“And it was seriously the cutest butt I’ve seen on this ship so far,” Christophe finished and began to eat as well. Victor sighed deeply, focusing on his meal, hoping that the Chief Medical Officer would drop the subject and move on to something lighter, something that did not set his heart on fire.

Of course, it was a useless hope.

“I mean,” Christophe said after a few bites, gesturing with his fork. “I didn’t get to see _all_ the butts on this ship. I don’t examine the ladies, as you know. And as expected, Altin didn’t even show up. I might have to go after him.” The regret on his face was palpable.

Victor sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Let him be. He’s fine. As healthy as a horse.”

Christophe shrugged. “If you say so. He’s quite the complicated guy anyway. Do you remember the face he made, when we were working on that project together at the Academy? He looked at me as if I had just murdered his mother right in front of him.”

“That’s just his regular stare,” Victor replied, but he knew very well what Christophe meant. Otabek Altin was, frankly speaking, a manic genius. Only a fool would dare to underestimate the Kazakh based on his reticence and reserved attitude. Victor had spent his combat training with him, and _knew_ that Otabek was probably one of the most dangerous people on his ship. He could easily turn one’s bedside lamp into a deadly weapon that pulverised the poor soul sleeping next to it within seconds, without leaving a trace.

When it came to Otabek Altin, _live and let live_ was the best option.

“And then there is Guang Hong Ji, who had his examination done beforehand,” Christophe continued as he poured more sauce over his rice.

“He didn’t want to waste any time, getting to work straight away,” Victor said. Guang Hong Ji was their Horticultural Botanist, merely a civilian contractor and not a member of Starfleet. “And he’s not your responsibility for the early medical checks anyway.”

“I know, but after seeing his picture, I’d have loved to meet him,” Christophe said with a heavy sigh. “What about you, though? Got everything checked? Everything’s fine?”

Victor nodded lightly. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“Your arm, too?”

“Like new.”

They continued with their meal, and Victor was glad that Christophe did not push on the subject.

His previous injuries were not exactly his favourite topic.

“So my point is, I’d need more data to determine the finest butt on this ship.”

“ _Chris_!”

 

**.....**

 

After a long day of playing Captain, Victor finally found the time to close his eyes and relax for a moment.

Being the Captain was not only an exciting job - it was also a demanding one, and like all demanding jobs, it included a lot of paperwork. Reports had to be written, logbooks had to be updated, and all of these things were _his_ job. Most people in this position regarded them as tedious tasks. But for Victor, they were a welcome distraction, and an opportunity to spend time away from the eyes of his crew. He filled in the reports carefully, checked the messages they had received from earth, did his first logbook entry, and then he had focused on the plan for their journey.

It was, in fact, a simple mission. Explore the unmapped part of the galaxy, get in touch with new civilisations, introduce them to Starfleet, and to the Federation. And make sure Otabek’s new engine wouldn’t blow them all to smithereens, or _worse._ Their mission was one of research, driven by the human thirst for knowledge. Each crewmember had been carefully selected to ensure that it would follow the principles of peace and respectful convergence. For five years, they would get to see what no human being had ever seen before. It was the thrill of the unknown that had brought Victor to Starfleet in the first place.

These days, however, he valued the known more than the unknown.

The known could be dealt with easily. It was well-experienced. One could avoid unpleasant or even dangerous situations if one wished to do so, or seek them out actively. The known never came with surprises. And even the few surprises that they were eventually lost their fright.

In space, however, death was lurking behind every corner.

One thing could go wrong, and it could all be over within a second.

Victor buried his hands nervously in the fabric of his trousers, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He could not help it - sometimes his emotions took over, the memories would flood his mind and blind him, forcing him to live through every single moment of his past. He would hear the screeching of the engines, the sound of breaking bones, the screams of dying people, being sucked into space.

He would smell burning flesh and feel the pain, and a heavy weight on his chest, pressing down on him, suffocating him slowly.

And then, within the blink of an eye, it would be over again, and an unknown force would drag him back to reality.

Victor shook his head, reaching for the glass of water the replicator to his left had produced.

Only then he noticed that his hand was shaking.

The door to his right opened and the young Head Counsellor came in, an apologetic look on his face. “I’m so sorry,” Phichit Chulanont said as he hurried over to his desk to grab his pen and paper. “This ship is so big, I keep getting lost. I hope you did not have to wait for too long.”

Victor shook his head, taking a sip from the water. “Not at all, Mr. Chulanont,” he said, shifting in his armchair.

“Right, no titles in here,” Phichit said and took a seat opposite the other man, crossing his legs as he looked at him expectantly. “How are you?”

“I must admit that I’ve never served on a ship of this size before,” Victor said. “It’s a little intimidating.”

“Oh, I get what you mean,” Phichit agreed. “The last mission I was assigned to was a lot smaller and less… elaborate. Is that the right word? Sorry, sometimes my English isn’t as good as my Thai.”

Victor smiled softly. “No worries, Mr. Chulanont. I understand you perfectly well.”

“That’s a relief,” Phichit returned the smile. “So what do you feel when you think of this mission? You must be excited.”

“Of course I am,” Victor said, running a hand through his silverish hair. “What about you, though? Your file told me that you initially wanted to work at a space station and not on a ship.”

Phichit laughed. “That’s true. But that was before I finished my studies, and finally got some experience.”

“To be fair, space isn’t a very friendly environment,” Victor said. “Perhaps I should have stayed on earth and become a figure skater or an actor, or something else super fancy. Who knows? At least I would have more time to spend with my dog.” He sighed. “Poor Makkachin will have completely forgotten my face, by the time that I get back. It’s not that I don’t trust my mother with him, but I’ve had him since he was a puppy. And then there’s this wall in my apartment that I have to paint and I still haven’t put up that one shelf in the bedroom. I was in such a hurry, you know. What about you, were you surprised to be called to this mission as well?”

He trailed off as he saw Phichit’s face, studying him with a mixture of professional curiosity and amusement.

“Of course we can speak about my preparations for this mission in greater detail at some point,” Phichit said. “But this is not why we are here, is it?”

A cool shiver ran down his spine, and Victor looked down at the glass of water in his hands. No. It really was not the reason why he was here.

“It is my job and my wish to help you, Mr. Nikiforov,” Phichit said calmly. “Everything you say in this room will stay in this room. Do you understand?”

Victor nodded lightly, not meeting the counsellor’s gaze.

Phichit shifted on his seat, opening his notebook once more.

“So, shall we begin?”


	4. Too Much Time To Waste (It's Space)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MissMarquin: I feel so bad that I'm neglecting the rest of my fics for this. They aren't abandoned, I promise! We're so glad that people are enjoying this fic so far, because we are having so much fun writing it! I did tons of research on wormholes and black holes for this chapter.
> 
> PLEASE ENJOY!

 

**_Too Much Time To Waste (It’s Space)_ **

  


* * *

 

 

“ _Captain_ ,” Seung-Gil hissed, leaning towards Victor. “You _need_ to address this.”

But Victor waved his hand flippantly. “There’s nothing to address,” he said, sounding almost bored, leaning back in the captain’s chair.

“ _Nothing to address_ \--” his Commander immediately snapped, but paused, trying to calm himself. His cheek twitched in annoyance. “Captain, the boy is unpredictable, and frankly unequipped to be an officer of the--”

“ _Unequipped_?” Victor immediately cut in. “That boy is the best Chief Navigator there is, not to mention a genius pilot.”

“You’re overlooking his incredibly volatile personality, and general disregard for senior officers,” Commander Lee snapped.

“Watch it, Commander,” Victor warned. “You might be my old friend, but I am still your Captain. And considering that you’re talking about _respecting authority_ , maybe you should take your own advice-- not limited to trusting my judgement.”

“With all due respect,  _Captain_ , your judgement isn’t always sound.”

Seung-Gil knew that he had dealt low blow, and he wasn’t one bit surprised when Victor shot up in his chair. He opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn’t find the words, opting to turn away and leave the bridge. The turbolift doors opened, revealing Yuri, dressed and ready for work, but slightly crumpled looking.

“Er, Captain--”

“Ensign,” he said amicably, but his tone was tight, radiating with anger. He skirted around the boy, as Yuri slipped out of the lift. The Captain was gone, leaving the entire bridge to regard him awkwardly.

It wasn’t the first time. In fact, it had been a normal occurrence, ever since they had taken off on this stupid mission.

Yuri liked flying because it was like freedom.

Unless you piloted a Starfleet ship, which only followed a straight fucking path. Where was the freedom in that?

“What are you staring at?” Yuri snapped at Seung-Gil, his lip curling.

“Ensign--” he started, but Yuri scoffed, pushing right past him.

“You know what, there’s no point,” he spat. “I already know what all of you think.” He threw himself into his chair, pulling up the navigation plans for the day.

Seung-Gil stood there awkwardly for a moment, and then said, “Plisetsky, people treat you the way that you treat them. If you want respect, you have to earn it.”

“I’m done wasting my time _trying_ ,” he replied. “It’s the same old, same old-- just like any other ship I’ve wasted my time on. Even if I try to change your minds, you won’t, because I’m just some _stupid punk_ , who’s _unequipped_.” Seung-Gil blinked, and Yuri shot up from his chair. “That’s right, I’ve _heard_ you Commander and the way that you complain about me. I’ve heard you since the moment I first stepped onto this bridge. If you have something to say to me, then say it to my fucking face.”

“ _Ensign_ ,” the Commander started with, but Yuri just shook his head.

“I don’t want to hear it,” he snapped, leaving his station, stomping to the turbolift. He slapped at the comm panel harder than he needed to, but he didn’t care. His mind was a million miles away, at the moment.

He didn’t care that he had just committed a serious violation of protocol. He was tired of being there and dealing with it.

Tired of being a damn punching bag.

 

* * *

 

Yuri liked Maya.

She listened without judgement and kept her mouth shut, knowing that advice usually wasn’t wanted.  So when he stormed into the lounge, after his blow-up on the bridge, she wisely said nothing. Instead, she poured a neat cup of black coffee, and then slipped a shot of whiskey into it, passing it to him with a wink.

Yuri groaned in relief. “ _Maya_ ,” he said, “you are are godsend.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” she said with a laugh. Then she pointed to the drink. “Seriously though, don’t tell anyone. I don’t give free booze to just anyone.”

“Yes you do,” he replied. “All the booze is free.” But he knew that she had meant it with good humor. He took a sip, knocking back the coffee, and it burned the entire way down his throat. In the _good_ kind of way.

“Maya, should I be filing a complaint, that you’re giving alcohol to an officer on shift?”

The both of them turned to the right, only to find Victor sitting at the bar as well, nursing his own cup of coffee. Maya shot him a look, and said, “Only if you file one against yourself, while you’re at it.” Then she paused. “Also, you can’t do shit about me, I’m not one of your officers.”

“Ah,” he said, taking a sip. “The Captain is always on duty, so I get a reprieve.” It was a bullshit answer, and not true at all, but Maya chuckled despite that. Finally, Victor turned to Yuri, regarding him carefully. “I feel like I should apologize,” he said.

Yuri narrowed his eyes slightly. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“ _Language,_ Ensign,” Victor hissed, but then his lips twisted into a smile. “I brought you here to be the Chief Navigator, but I didn’t think of how that might be received. Or if you had wanted the position--”

“Of course I want it!” Yuri immediately cut in, causing Victor to blink. Yuri sighed, sticking his hands around the coffee mug to warm them. “It's just that I’m so used to people having no faith in me, it’s weird when they do.”

Victor appraised him carefully. “You’re not just talking about the crew now, are you? Or even Starfleet.”

No, this hit home, on a personal level, not that the old man needed to know that. “It doesn't matter what I mean. I have a reputation, and it’s bad. And people know. Even if I just suddenly turned goody-two-shoes, it wouldn’t make a difference.”

“I’m not saying that you need to change, Ensign,” Victor said. “Except for maybe toning down your constant use of _obscenities_. But there’s nothing wrong with _you_.”

Yuri laughed bitterly. “I’ll file that under ‘things that people would never fucking say about me’.”

“I get that you're bored, you know,” Victor finally said, sipping at his coffee again. Yuri turned to look at him, surprised that the Captain had said it. “Really, I get it. What was it you said at the party? That I ‘looked clean as a whistle’?” He paused and laughed. “You and I are very much alike, Yuri. I caused all sorts of trouble, and I went looking for it, and for one reason only--”

“Flying is great and all, but it’s a straight fucking line,” Yuri groused.

“Which is why you need something else to do,” Victor finished with. “Something that’ll engage you.”

“ _Engage me?”_ Yuri repeated. “What am I, seven?”

“Starting tomorrow, you’ll report to engineering twice a week,” Victor said.

Yuri sputtered slightly. _Engineering_? Why the fuck would he do that? But he didn’t get the chance to ask, before Maya nearly dropped her coffee pot. “Uh, _why_ are we doing that?”

Victor shrugged. “His transcripts show that he did well in basic warp theory. Even if your brother thinks that he can handle things on his own, he _can’t_. He still needs rest, and we need a back-up.”

“Didn’t you already force an intern on him?”

“Yuri won’t be an intern!” Victor said cheerfully. “He’ll be a student, and it’ll be like auditing a class. Really, it’s just to round out our crew.”

“And give them a break from me,”  Yuri complained.

“And you a break from _them_ ,” Victor said. And even though Yuri harrumphed at such a thing, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

Until he remembered that _Crewman Altin_ was the grease covered man that Yuri literally hadn’t been able to forget about, since the moment that he saw him. He was about to contest, when Maya beat him to it again.

“Does Otabek know about this?”

“No, considering that I just thought about it.” Maya glared at the Captain, but Victor didn’t seem to be ruffled one bit. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him. It’ll be fine.”

“Captain--” Maya started, but Yuri interrupted her.

“No it’s fine, it sounds like a good idea.” Maya and Victor turned to him, both _gaping_ at the fact that he had _willingly_ agreed with something. Especially since it was something that wasn’t his idea. Then Maya narrowed her eyes at him, and Yuri had the distinct feeling that she remembered _all_ about how he had just stared and stared and stared at her brother. For the entire party.

Victor drained the rest of his coffee, and then stood. “Alright then, at 0800 tomorrow, you’ll report to engineering, instead of the bridge. Commander Lee can handle the ship in your absence.”

That caused Yuri to start. “If that man _touches_ the console--” But then stopped dead, at the flat look that fell across the Captain’s face. There wasn’t any point in threatening the man, even if Yuri’s relationship with the Commander was volatile at best.  “0800, it is. Main Engineering. Make sure that the Commander doesn’t fuck up my settings.”

That caused Victor to smile, and then he left them.

Yuri sighed again and said, “Our Captain is an _idiot_.”

“He could have assigned you to map star charts of this quadrant with Commander Lee instead. He didn’t.”

Yuri couldn’t help the groan that escaped him, as he dropped his forehead to the counter. The countertop was cool against his skin. Maya stood next to him, polishing a glass, with a clean towel.

“You know, I gave you a warning--”

“ _Stay away_ , yeah I know.”

“I didn’t _actually_ mean it. My brother could use a friend.”

“I don’t have friends, Maya,” he said, lifting his head to look at her.

Maya was smiling back. “Neither does he.”

 _Oh joy_. There was nothing better, than a man _more_ antisocial than himself, even if the man was handsome, and had the perfect build, and wore that mechanic jumpsuit like it was molded for his--

Yuri nearly gagged. He was pretty sure they were going to get along like oil and water. Victor was an idiot, and absolute, fucking idiot.

 

* * *

 

“Otabek, put that away.” Victor’s voice was a placating plea, and normally, he wouldn’t feel threatened.

Except by him, of course. " _Captain_ , do you remember what I said, after we chatted about Kenjirou?”

“Otabek, contrary to popular belief, you aren’t super human-- _Put that damn thing away!”_

Otabek had cornered the Captain against the far wall in engineering. While he hadn’t punched him in the face a week back when confronting him about his unwanted intern, he _had_ said some very choice words. Firm and _very_ colorful ones, in fact. “One thing goes wrong with this engine, and we aren’t dead in the water Victor, we’re _dead_.”

And expecting him to let young, inexperienced engineers to tinker on them, was the exact opposite of what he needed.

Victor held his hands up, trying to calm him, but it wouldn’t work. Otabek was already past that. “Plisetsky won’t be an intern-- he doesn’t even have to touch the Warp Core. _Why on earth do you even have one of those_?!”

At that, Otabek gaped. “Plisestsky? _The pilot?_ Does he even know anything about engineering?”

“Otabek, seriously, stop brandishing that wrench like it’s a fucking knife.”

Victor so rarely swore, that Otabek almost felt sorry for him. He looked down at the tool in his hand, slightly rusted at one end. Admittedly, the wrench was a little archaic, when one considered tools to use on a Warp Core, but Otabek had his comforts.

And it might not have had the precise nature of an interphasic coil spanner, but it got the fucking job done, at the end of the day.

With a sigh, Otabek dropped the tool to his side and stepped back. Victor knew that he would never had actually _hurt_ him, but he was a force to be threatened with. Most considered him the ‘hermit engineer’.

Most didn’t know that he could snap a man’s neck with an easy twist.

Victor did.

The Captain swallowed, trying to regain his composure, as he smoothed out his uniform. “As I was saying--”

“No, as _I_ was saying,” Otabek interrupted, and Victor snapped his mouth shut. “Plisetsky? Victor, I’m already babysitting Kenjirou, I don’t have the time to babysit someone else.”

“It’s not babysitting!”

“But you want him to sit down here and watch me work, right? _Just so he can learn_.” Otabek turned on his heel, walking back towards the engineering control panel. “Even if I spend most of my time down here, I _do_ hear what the crew says. I know all about your problem child.”

“He’s not a problem child,” Victor said, following him. "Let alone mine."

Otabek practically threw his wrench into his toolbox. “Don’t think that I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Which is _what_?” Victor asked.  

“He’s like some lost little kitten, and you’ve taken him under your wing. You see _yourself_ in him,” Otabek snapped, waving wildly.

Victor leaned against the console, causing Otabek to look at him. “Then you would know better than anyone, what happens when someone like him is _left alone_.”

That caused Otabek to pause, and consider the Captain. Then, he sighed, dragging his hand down his face. “What exactly is it, that you think he’ll gain from spending time in here.”

“It’s not about _here_ ,” Victor said, a small smile crossing his features. “Engineering has nothing to do with it. He just needs something to occupy his time, get him away from the bridge. I think the two of you will get along, that’s all.”

“I _don’t_ get along with anyone, Victor.”

“You get along with me. Besides, your sister likes him.”

Otabek _refused_ to respond, even though he knew that Maya was the best judge of character that he knew. “I reserve the right to kick him out.”

“Of course.”

“And he has to follow my rules.”

“It’s your engine room.”

“And I swear to God Victor, if something goes wrong--”

Victor was already nodding. “Yes, yes, I take responsibility.”

Otabek dragged his hand down his face, hoping to God above that this wasn’t a mistake. “When did you say he started?”

He hated Victor’s smirk in response.

 

* * *

 

The idea that the Commander was currently piloting his ship made Yuri’s skin crawl.

Despite that though, he found himself outside of Main Engineering, hesitating for some reason. It was stupid, how well the Captain had understood him. How easily he had read right though all of his unresolved anger.  

And then there was this whole thing with Otabek Altin, Engineer extraordinaire. Yuri had made a point of avoiding the man entirely (which actually hadn’t been that hard), but now they were being forced together.

Before he could wrestle with himself any longer, the door slid open, and the man in question stood there, leaning against the door jam. He was wearing that blasted mechanic’s jumpsuit again, folded over and tied at the waist. His under shirt was gray today, but tight enough to show off his form.

And a  _very good_ form, it was. Yuri swallowed.

“Are you going to come in?” Otabek asked. “Or are you just going to stand there, thinking about it?”

“Just for the record, I don’t want to be here,” he blurted.

Otabek raised an eyebrow at that. “You know, most people might be offended by that,” he said, pausing to lean back to let Yuri in. “That being said, I don’t want you here either.”

“Gee, thanks,” Yuri said, his voice dripping in sarcasm as he followed the man in.

The engine room was large, with high ceilings. The Warp Core sat in the middle, this prototype considerably wider than any other he had seen. There was a long control panel off to the side, flanked by numerous monitors on the wall.

“I only have two rules,” Otabek said, moving to grab his tool box. Yuri eyeballed it warily-- what an antiquated thing to have aboard, let alone actually use. “Don’t touch anything, and don’t mess with my music.”

“And if I do?” Yuri asked, smirking slightly.

“Then I get to kick you out. Victor gave me permission.”

“ _Victor_ ,” Yuri repeated. “First name basis?” But Otabek didn’t explain, moving to crawl underneath the Warp Core. Yuri followed him, leaning down to look under. “Well, Professor, teach away.”

“Call me Professor again, Plisetsky, and I’ll throw this wrench at you,” Otabek growled in warning, and Yuri blinked.

Then he frowned, but did as he was told, pulling back and looking up at the engine. “They said that you designed this thing.”

Otabek grunted, and then said. “That may be, but I didn’t mean for it to be built.”

Yuri dropped to the ground beside him, sitting cross-legged. “Then why the fuck would you design it?”

The Engineer paused, looking back at him, his dark eyes sparkling just the _tiniest_ bit. “Why not? A theory is only a theory, until it’s built. I design a lot of things. Most of them don’t ever see completion.” He turned back to whatever he was doing, tightening something with his wrench.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to use a coil spanner?” Yuri asked.

“Yes,” Otabek answered. “But I prefer to get my hands dirty.”

Which must have been why he was  _always_ covered in a layer of grease. Not that it was a bad look. Yuri nearly dragged a hand down his face at the thought. Really, he needed to pull himself together.

“Besides,” Otabek continued, “this girl is really testy. Temporal Mechanics are a bitch to begin with, but when combined with a warp core--”

 _"Temporal_?” Yuri asked. “This thing is a fucking _time machine_?”

Otabek paused again, giving him a pointed look. “ _No_ , but it does use a wormhole to power the warp drive.”

Yuri blinked at that, trying to think back to school, and how artificial wormholes were made. And when he remembered, he launched to his feet immediately. “Wait a minute, old man, are you telling me--”

“Don’t fucking call me _old man_ ,” Otabek snapped, pulling himself from underneath the core. He tossed his wrench into the tool box.

“I’m not stupid,” Yuri said. “I remember enough of my astrophysics class to realize--”

“So you’ve figured out _why_ I don’t like people touching my shit,” Otabek finished for him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, before scratching idly at his undercut. “It was only supposed to be a theory, but then Maya found the stupid blueprints, and then turned it into Starfleet.”

So this was all Maya’s fault.

“Next thing I know, Starfleet’s given me a team of researchers, two quantum singularities and told me to _make it so_. And here we are.”

 _Two quantum singularities_.

“So you’re telling me that we have _two fucking black holes_ on this ship?”

“Didn’t you read your briefing? It’s outlined in there.”

Yuri scowled at him. No, he hadn’t fucking read his briefing. “We’ll you're in luck,” Yuri finally said. “At least I know a _little_ something about how this shit works. I won’t be as useless as you thought.”

“I’m not letting you touch my engine.”

Yet. Yuri smirked at him. “Oh, eventually you’ll give in.”

And Otabek gave him this _strange_ look, and Yuri immediately cleared his throat. “You know what? Never mind. Just keep at it. I’ll shut up and watch.”

Otabek considered him for a moment, before walking over the the control panel. “I have to run a few diagnostics, but so far, everything is looking okay for the moment. Though, I’m not a fan of the _quality_ of some of these parts.”

“Well, get to it, Teach.”

Otabek glared at the word, but instead of griping, he asked for the Computer. “Initiate Program _Leave Me The Fuck Alone_ , Track six.”

Yuri’s mouth twisted into a smile at that, as sat along the floor of Engineering bay. At least he wasn’t the only antisocial asshole around here. Rock music blasted across the overhead speakers.

“Oh hey, _Cherrybomb_. _The Runaways._ ” Rock was kind of his thing, so maybe they _would_ get along.

Otabek had been fiddling with some of the controls, when he looked over at Yuri, but the pilot was nodding along with the song.

And then Otabek smiled, a genuine and wide across his face, and it practically knocked the breath out of the pilot.

 _Well shit_.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri Katsuki had always been the kind of person that easily got along with everyone. His mother’s motto had always been _Live and let live_ , and Yuuri had always tried to follow her example. In return, he had become friends with people others would not even have considered worth talking to. Furthermore, his attitude kept him out of trouble, and he never became subject of gossip.

For the other Yuri on the USS Agape, quite the opposite was the case.

Yuuri had never met a person like Yuri Plisetsky before. He was a person that seemed to stay alive by sheer anger, managing to scare away almost the entire crew the moment he had set foot onto the ship.

Watching Yuri Plisetsky was like watching a warrior on a crusade, fighting several battles at once. He was loud and volatile, rude and moody when being spoken to, and most of the time, he seemed to stare at the screen in front of him. What he lacked in people skills, Yuri Plisetsky seemed to have in his abilities as a navigator. Yuuri had often watched him from the corner of his eye, admiring his skill. The Agape seemed to be an instrument in his hands, his personal Stradivarius, and Yuri Plisetsky flew her like no other ever could. There was no doubt that he was indeed the best navigator that Starfleet had to offer.

Yes, in that matter, Captain Nikiforov was absolutely right. There was no one fit to hold a candle to the young Russian.

But as a colleague, the man seemed to be an absolute nightmare.

Yuuri had winced as Yuri Plisetsky stormed off towards the turbo lift, expecting Commander Lee to finally snap and yell, but no such thing had happened. Instead, Commander Lee had taken a seat in the Captain’s chair, and let out a deep sigh.

Yuuri had never been happier about having a non-leading position.

The Captain had not returned to the Bridge by the end of Yuuri’s shift, and so, he reported to Commander Lee that he would leave. The Korean nodded lightly, glancing at what Yuuri had been working on. “Impressive,” he said, his eyes ghosting over the translations. “Keep up the good work, Katsuki.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Yuuri said, turning away to leave the bridge. He hated the turbolifts, as they always gave him a slight claustrophobic feeling, but at least they were quick. Arriving at his rooms, he went to grab his sports bag and a bottle of water for some exercise before dinner. For Yuuri Katsuki, there was only one sport that he found relaxing, and that was ice skating.

He had been overjoyed to find out that the holodeck was able to create a rink, and he had been using it almost daily for the last ten days. Most crewmembers used the holodeck at different times, and so far, no one had ever disturbed him there.

The holodeck was unoccupied as Yuuri arrived that afternoon, the small rink already waiting for him. He put down his bag, sitting down to change into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that was not as restrictive as his uniform. And then, carefully, as if it were a holy act, he put on his skates and stepped onto the ice.

The second Yuuri felt the ice underneath his feet he exhaled deeply, and the pressure of the day came off his shoulders. He had never been the athletic type, but on the ice, he felt light and free, as if there was nothing that could ever stop him.

And it helped him to forget that he was actually in space, and not on the safe ground of Mother Earth.

Yuuri had adjusted to life on the USS Agape rather easily, much to his own surprise. The fact that he usually had his back to the display screen while working certainly helped, as well as the fact that he kept the blinds in his room shut to pretend that there was no such thing as the deadly eternity of space surrounding him. Furthermore, he had his friends with him, and spending time with Yuuko, Takashi, and Phichit kept him busy and his mind occupied.

While skating, however, he let his mind wander, and he thought of the people had met so far.  There was Christophe Giacometti, their Head Medical Officer, who often joined them for a drink at the bar and entertained them all with his lewd jokes and flirting attempts. There was Maya Altin, the woman running the lounge, who always had a new joke ready for them. Sometimes, Yuuri would see Maya’s twin brother, Otabek Altin, walking up to the bar to grab a drink or a snack, and the man would disappear again immediately. The Head Engineer never seemed unfriendly, but not keen to engage in conversations either. Maya had only laughed when Phichit had asked her about her brother, and she advised them all to simply let him be.

There was Commander Seung-Gil Lee, who seemed strict, but had a human side as well. There was the Head Security Officer, Commander Jean-Jacques Leroy, whose cheerful attitude could be annoying at times. But he was a good man, and even managed to get a word or two out of Otabek Altin every now and then, with his charming personality. There was Lt. Leo de la Iglesia, their Chief Science Officer. He was someone Yuuri had met a few times at the Academy, but due to the great difference of their chosen fields of study, they had never actually had a class together. But it was nice to have another familiar face around, and Yuuri often found himself talking to the Texan during lunch.

And then, there was Captain Victor Nikiforov, whose presence never failed to make Yuuri’s heart flutter.

Of course he had known about him already before joining the USS Agape. Everyone knew who Victor Nikiforov was, and why he was so famous. Yuuri had seen him on television, in the newspapers, and on the internet - according to Phichit, there were several Instagram accounts dedicated to him by fans. But before joining the mission, Yuuri had never met him in person.

Now that he got to see and work with him every single day, he had to admit that he understood his fans. Victor Nikiforov was an absolute genius. But above all that, he was a surprisingly gentle and kind human being.

It had not gone unnoticed that of all people working on the bridge, it was Yuuri who was greeted first in the morning by the Captain. Victor would come in and exclaim a cheerful good morning, then turn to Yuuri and pat his shoulder briefly in greeting and inquire about his work.

Linguistics was often regarded as the driest subject that the Academy offered, but to Yuuri, it seemed as if the captain was genuinely interested in what he was doing. Every morning, he would inquire about the things he was working on, asking him to show him examples of his translations and the messages he had decoded and added to the Universal Dictionary. The excitement Victor Nikiforov showed when Yuuri introduced him to his work seemed to come from the bottom of his heart.

For the first time, Yuuri felt appreciated by a non-xenolinguist for his work.

He took a few sharp turns on the ice, attempting a salchow and failing miserably, but fortunately landing on both feet and not on his face. Perhaps thinking about the Captain and his beautiful blue eyes was not the best thing to do on the ice…

Yuuri shook his head, forcing himself to think of something else. Losing himself in hopeless dreams would do more harm than good. He was not here to find a boyfriend. He was here to work.

And besides, the illustrious Victor Nikiforov would never set his eyes on someone like him.

Those beautiful, bright blue eyes…

Yuuri groaned, annoyed about himself, and focused on attempting a triple axel.

 

* * *

 

There were a few things that Victor hated, and one of them was the fact that Seung-Gil Lee was sometimes absolutely _right_. Yes, he was not infallible. He made mistakes. Some of them were graver than others. But the fact that Seung-Gil, his friend, had spoken to him like that in front of everyone else had left a bitter aftertaste.

After leaving the bridge and returning to his office, Victor had sat at his desk for almost fifteen minutes without doing anything. He had stared into the void, wondering if it was right to not reprimand Yuri Plisetsky. Perhaps he had overestimated the young man’s potential. Yes, perhaps he was wrong about him, and Plisetsky was indeed not the right one for the job.

Eventually, Victor had shaken his head and come to a decision. Unless he tried, he would never know if Yuri Plisetsky was the right choice for the position of Chief Navigator.

He had not expected to run into him at the lounge, complaining to Maya while having an early drink. But Victor saw that as proof that Plisetsky was actually able to get along with people if he only tried. To be fair, Maya Altin got along with almost everyone, and had a gift for reading people. But Yuri Plisetsky was a tough nut even for her. If he got along with her, then perhaps he would get along with Otabek as well.

Now that he had left the Engine Room again and had delivered his message, Victor’s heart felt a little lighter, despite the fact Otabek had threatened him with a rusty wrench. If there was one person on the ship one should never mindlessly anger, it was Otabek. The Kazakh had been already terrifying at the Academy, but with a wrench in his hands in the midst of the deadliest environment that there was, only a fool would dare to anger him.

Yes, sometimes he was a fool, but at least a clever one. Victor had gotten what he wanted, and was now looking forward to a quiet evening. Perhaps he could spend some time on the holodeck.

“Captain?”

As he stepped out of the turbolift, Seung-Gil stood before him, a slightly concerned expression on his usually blank face. Victor looked at him in surprise. He had known Seung-Gil since his first day at the Academy, and over time, they had become friends. In fact, it had been Seung-Gil who had advised Victor to not care about what his father thought of his lifestyle. It had been Seung-Gil who had helped him studying, who had introduced him to the right people, and who had bailed him out several times. Victor never really knew what was going on in the head of the Korean, but he knew that he was honest.

And that was a quality that Victor appreciated above everything else when it came to Seung-Gil.

“I would like to apologise, Captain,” Seung-Gil said, his hands clasped behind his back as he bowed a little. “For criticising you the way I did in front of everyone this morning. I should have chosen a more appropriate time and manner for bringing forward my thoughts.”

Victor blinked. “Oh, Seung-Gil, I’m not mad at you!” He assured him quickly. “There is no need to apologise. Actually, your words had me thinking, and I have come to a decision. Twice a week, Plisetsky will report to the Engine Room instead of to the bridge. It will engage him, and give us all a break from each other. I believe that this is what Plisetsky needs the most. A challenge.”

Seung-Gil frowned a little, and once more Victor got to see one of the rare expressions of emotion on his usually so motionless face. Apparently, his decision had taken the Korean by surprise.

“That sounds reasonable, Captain,” Seung-Gil said eventually, straightening his shoulders. “Let us hope that this will ease the situation.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will,” Victor grinned. “Ah, that was a long day. Call it a day soon, my friend. You tend to work too hard.”

Seung-Gil huffed. “I do not like to leave work behind unfinished,” he said. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Captain.”

“You too, my friend,” Victor chirped and continued on his way to the holodeck. It was one of his favourite places on every ship, and it never failed to amaze him. There were so many worlds to create and explore - and according to Phichit, spending time on the holodeck in certain environments would help him settle his mind.

For tonight, Victor fancied a walk in a park of his hometown.

As he arrived at the first holodeck, he found it already occupied. Victor sighed deeply, turning away to make his way down to the second as a soft melody reached his ear.

Victor paused in his footsteps, turning around and slowly approaching the door to the holodeck again. Had his ears betrayed him?

No, there definitely was music. A piano piece, gentle at first but then slowly swelling to something bigger, to something more passionate. And Victor just could not stop himself from sneaking a peek.

He requested the Computer to let him in, and quietly slipped into the room.

Of all the things Victor had expected to find on the holodeck, an ice skating rink was _definitely_ not one of them.

And he certainly had not expected to see Yuuri Katsuki on the ice, twisting and turning as he danced to the beautiful music. Lost in his thoughts, and in his own world.

To Victor, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Yuuri danced with such ease that there was no doubt that he was close to being a professional. There was pure emotion in every single movement, in every single turn that he took, and the mere sight of him losing himself in the music sent a strangely pleasant shiver down Victor’s spine. He knew that he was watching something incredibly powerful, a moment so intimate that Yuuri Katsuki certainly did not want to share with anyone. But Victor could not help it. He kept staring, his mouth slightly open in awe.

Yuuri suddenly picked up speed, jumping high in the air and spinning several times before landing again safely on his feet, his arms spread out as if they were his wings.

“BRAVO!” Victor exclaimed and gripped the railing of the rink tightly.

Yuuri spun around in shock, staring at Victor with wide eyes as he kept skating - and promptly crashed against the railing.

“Oh my!” Victor gasped, rushing to the other side of the rink, where a slightly dishevelled Yuuri Katsuki sat on the ice and rubbed at his head with a groan. “Are you hurt?”

Yuuri shook his head, gripping the railing as he pulled himself to his feet again. “You only frightened me, Captain,” he said and carefully skated to the exit to leave the ice. Victor watched him with a deeply worried expression on his face, a hand still over his heart as he watched Yuuri make his way over to the bench.

“Computer, turn off the music,” Yuuri mumbled, still rubbing his head. The music stopped, and Yuuri flopped down onto the bench.

“Are you sure you are okay, Katsuki?” Victor asked worriedly. “You- oh no, your nose!”

It was the most adorable nosebleed he had ever seen.

Yuuri raised his hand up to his nose, glancing at the tiny red drops that fell onto his pale skin. “Oh.”

“Wait!” Victor frantically searched his pockets for a paper handkerchief, handing the whole pack to Yuuri once he finally found it. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, Katsuki. Let me take you to the sickbay.”

Yuuri blushed and quickly shook his head. “It’s fine, really,” he assured him and pressed the handkerchief to his nose to stop the bleeding. “You have no idea how often this happens to me…”

Victor blinked. “Huh?”

Yuuri met his gaze. “Nosebleeds,” he said. “Thin mucosae in my nose. I don’t crash into railings on a daily basis.”

“Oh!” Victor rubbed the back of his head with a nervous laugh.

Why on earth was he suddenly feeling so very out of place?

“Still, I’m so sorry that I interrupted you,” Victor said and sat down beside Yuuri on the bench, watching him worriedly as he patted his nose with the handkerchief. “But I just couldn’t stop watching you. That was so impressive! Do you skate here often?”

Yuuri blushed even more, and Victor was sure he had never seen something so adorable before.

“Sometimes, yes,” Yuuri answered.

“You seemed so lost in your thoughts,” Victor said, leaning forward a little, resting his arms on his knees. “What were you thinking about?”

Yuuri shifted a little on his seat and looked away, as if it embarrassed him that someone had seen him skate the way he had. For a moment, Victor was sure that he would not get a reply from the Japanese man. But then Yuuri spoke,  his voice was soft and gentle.

“I thought about my hometown,” he explained, finally meeting Victor’s gaze again. “Skating… skating helps me to unwind after work and… and then I forget that I’m in space.”

Victor blinked. “You forget that you’re in space?”

“I know it’s silly, Captain,” Yuuri said, nervously rubbing his neck. “But I’m…” He swallowed thickly.

Victor tilted his head to the side. “Are you afraid of space, Katsuki?”

Yuuri bit his lower lip. “Is it that obvious?” He asked quietly.

Victor had already expected something like that. During his shift on the bridge, Yuuri Katsuki would hardly turn around. In the lounge, he would never join the others at the windows to admire the stars. Victor had met people like that before, and unlike many others, he had never found their behaviour silly or exaggerated.

“I know it’s stupid,” Yuuri murmured.

“Stupid?” Victor repeated. “My dear friend, I believe that you are probably the only sane person on this ship.”

Yuuri stared at him.

Victor laughed. “To be fair, space is terrifying. It’s the deadliest environment that there is. Being in the midst of it goes entirely against any kind of logic known to humankind.”

“It does!” Yuuri exclaimed, the massive relief clear on his face as he realised that there was someone who understood. “Why would any sane person enter space voluntarily?”

“Probably for the thrill of it,” Victor replied and leant back on the bench. “This is why I’m glad that we have the holodeck. It offers us a break from space. At least temporarily.”

“At least temporarily, yes,” Yuuri agreed. “Do you… do you come to the holodeck because of this reason as well, Captain?”

Victor thought about his answer for a moment. “I need a break from many things these days,” he admitted eventually. “But space is among them, yes. I had planned to go for a walk in St. Petersburg, but instead I ended up at an ice skating rink.” He smiled at Yuuri, hoping the other man would not find him weird for being so open with him. “I did some figure skating, too, you know.”

“Y-you did?” Yuuri said, his eyes widening a little. “But you… you are…”

“So tall?” Victor grinned. “So clumsy?”

Yuuri quickly shook his head. “No, no, that’s not what I meant!” He assured him. “I just meant that you’re so famous for your work for Starfleet. I didn’t expect that you would like figure skating.”

Victor smiled understandingly. It was true that figure skating was probably not what one would expect to be of interest to a Starfleet captain. But then again, Victor had never been like other people. A fact that upset his own father greatly.

“I’m not very good at it, though,” Victor said. “Between studying and… other things, I couldn’t really find the time to practise. But I have to admit I’d like to skate more.” He let his eyes wander over the small rink in front of them. “If you don’t mind me using the rink, that is.”

“Oh, not at all!” Yuuri assured him. “It’s not my rink, after all.”

“Perhaps we could skate together every now and then?” Victor suggested. “Only if you’re okay with that, of course. I think I’d need the help of someone who feels at home on the ice.”

Yuuri blushed the darkest red Victor had ever seen on him, and oh, he was sure that he would never get enough of that sight. “Y-You want me to teach you, Captain?” He almost squeaked.

Victor nodded. “Yes, teach me.” Then, he leant forward to look him directly in the eye. “You are the best skater on the entire ship, after all,” he added teasingly. “So, what do you say?”

Yuuri blinked in surprise, unable to speak for a moment before he slowly nodded. “S-Sure, I can try,” he said.

Victor beamed at him. “Amazing!” He exclaimed. “Oh, and please call me Victor. We’re not on duty here, are we?” He winked.

“O-Okay,” Yuuri said with a breathless laugh. “Victor it is, then… I’m Yuuri.”

“Nice to meet you, Yuuri,” Victor grinned and got up, clapping his hands in excitement. “Now, where do I get a pair of those gorgeous skates?”

 


	5. Dark Matter(s)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theangryuniverse here! We had way too much fun writing this chapter, and oh my God, it's so full with character development and excitement and we're so happy that we can share it with you now!
> 
> MissMarquin here: I literally cannot get enough of Seung-Gil. 
> 
> Trigger warning: Mentions of PTSD, mental illness, institutionalisation, recovery.

_**Dark Matter(s)** _

 

* * *

 

 

It had taken Victor almost a year to readjust to a normal life again. The first three months back on earth had spent inside Starfleet Medical Hospital, surrounded by a team of doctors, nurses, and therapists. All of them had tried to achieve the impossible task of putting a man back together that did not want to be healed, that only wanted to be left alone.

The days were empty and the nights were painful. Victor woke up almost hourly, covered in sweat, screaming his lungs out and begging for absolution for what he had done.

They doctors had tried different approaches. After healing his body, and performing small medical miracles, the time had come to heal his soul. But how could one help a man that refused to be healed, that refused to talk to anyone, except for the voices in his head? A man that screamed and lashed out to anyone that tried to get near him?

Admiral Nikiforov had not given them permission to sedate his son, and so, they had been forced to try different ways. But Victor would never respond. He would only sit by the window and watch the city below. Whenever his mother tried to touch him, he would pull away and flee to the other side of the room.

They had had their first little breakthrough by bringing Makkachin to the hospital. The moment the dog had burst into the room and jumped on his owner, everyone had held their breath. But instead of pulling away as usual, Victor had pulled the dog into his arms, and for the first time in weeks, there had been a hint of a smile on his pale face.

From that day on, Makkachin had always stayed at Victor’s side. And slowly, he had begun to trust the people around him, realising that they only wanted to help him. The day he had not pulled away from his mother’s touch, she had burst into tears, and even his father had expressed his relief.

It had taken a lot of time and endless patience. But after three months, Victor had been released from hospital and moved to a sanatorium in the countryside.

His first visitor there had been Seung-Gil Lee. The Korean had fallen around Victor’s neck the moment he had entered the room, and Victor was sure that he had even heard him sob for a moment. He did not force Victor to speak about what had happened, but he had expressed his relief and joy over Victor’s return, and assured him that he would be there to support him if he needed him. Victor had thanked him and had then offered him tea. The rest of the afternoon had been spent speaking about this and that, and as Seung-Gil left again, Victor’s heart had felt a little lighter.

One week later, Christophe Giacometti had come to see him, bringing him a bunch of Swiss roses and the latest Starfleet gossip. Just like Seung-Gil, he did not ask Victor about the past and seemed determined to entertain his friend instead. By the end of his visit, Victor had cried tears of laughter, and falling asleep had been a lot easier that night.

Otabek Altin had called him as well. The Kazakh had not been able to come personally, but Victor had been happy to hear from him nonetheless. Their call had been short but sweet, with Otabek wishing him the best for a speedy recovery.

The days were not so empty anymore.

The nights, however, had remained just as painful. But now, there was Makkachin at his side, and the dog calmed him whenever Victor felt as if he were finally losing his mind for good, whenever he could not get the voices out of his head.

Nowadays, he barely heard them anymore. But that did not mean that they were gone.

“So what made you return to Starfleet, Mr. Nikiforov?” Phichit asked.

Victor smiled a little. After pouring half of his heart out to Phichit Chulanont - who had without any doubt read his medical file before starting the therapy sessions with him - this was the question that he dreaded the most.

“What made _you_ join Starfleet, Mr. Chulanont?” Victor asked in return and crossed his legs casually.

Phichit smiled. “I found it exciting,” he said and leant back in his armchair. “And the Academy offered this really good psychology programme. How could I say no to that?”

“So you’d say you’re here because this is what you’re good at?”

“Yes,” Phichit said. “At least I hope so.”

“Then you have your answer,” Victor said. “I returned to Starfleet because this,” he gestured broadly, “is the only thing I’m good at.”

Phichit chuckled and turned a page of his notebook. “Now I’m sure that’s not true, Mr. Nikiforov. You surely have many talents.”

Victor took a sip from his cup of coffee. The quality of the things the replicator produced never failed to surprise him. This coffee was actually drinkable - although it could not be compared to freshly brewed coffee from earth, of course.

“I don’t think so,” he said eventually. “Space travel is the only thing I’m good at.”

“What about that award you won at the national dance competition?” Phichit asked. “You must be a good dancer, if you got to win something like that.”

“Maybe, but my father did not see it the way you do,” Victor replied, setting down his mug and clasping his hands on his lap. “He thought of it as a waste of time, considering it a girly sport. No son of his should dance, he said, and embarrass him like that. And since I’m his only son, I was the big embarrassment.”

A gay son was one thing. But a dancing gay son? For his father, there seemed to be no greater shame.

Thinking of his father and the things he had said made Victor angry to this day, and it had taken him a rather long time - and a supportive network of friends - to leave his father’s views behind and accept himself the way he was.

“Do you think of your previous achievements as an embarrassment?” Phichit asked.

“No, of course not.”

“But you would not add dancing to your list of talents because of what your father thought of it,” Phichit said.

Victor took a deep breath, looking down at his lap. “For my father, only the Academy was ever good enough. My achievements for Starfleet were the only ones he ever acknowledged.” He rubbed his face, shaking his head. “He only ever saw the son he wanted to see. He never saw me.”

He could feel the anger rise, the painful grip on his heart becoming tighter as he allowed the memories to flood his mind for a moment; memories of his father, shouting at him for going out to dance and meet friends instead of studying for the entrance exam. Not even after he’d been accepted to the Academy with a one-hundred and twenty-eight percent score, the only thing his oh-so-illustrious father had done had been complaining about Victor’s choice of leisure activities.

He could not count on his father if he wanted to find out who he really was.

“Then who are you, Mr. Nikiforov?” Phichit asked, smiling softly as his patient began to open up. “Can you tell me? What is it that makes you ‘you’?”

Victor did not have an answer to that.

But Phichit Chulanont was a patient man, and he did not pressure him into giving an answer straight away.

“We’ll get to that at some point, no worries,” Phichit said and scribbled something into his notebook. “Now let us come to the final topic for today. Tell me, how are you sleeping these days?”

Victor shrugged. “Sometimes better, sometimes worse,” he said. “It takes me ages to fall asleep. And I keep waking up several times at night.”

Phichit nodded. “How about your nightmares?” He asked. “Do you still have them?”

“Hardly.”

“Mr. Nikiforov.”

“Fine. Every other night,” Victor sighed.

Phichit nodded, taking a few more notes. “In your position, you should be well-rested. What do you think about taking some medication to help you sleep? Just something light, not the serious stuff they gave you at the hospital.”

Victor hesitated. Phichit was right, he needed to be well-rested in his job, and he could not afford to be sleep deprived. Especially not in the case of an emergency. “It won’t mess with anything else?”

Phichit shook his head. “No. As I said, it’s something light. It has helped many people already, and it won’t interfere with your other medication or your abilities as captain. If you don’t feel better after two weeks, you can stop taking them, of course.”

Victor sighed. “Well, trying them won’t hurt, right?”

“Exactly,” Phichit said, reaching over to his desk to write the prescription.

**......**

Chris was in his office near the sickbay, writing reports as Victor found him. “Hello there,” Victor said and flopped down into one of the chairs by the desk. “Do you have a minute?”

“My dear Victor, if you let me finish this report I’ll have so many minutes for you,” Chris hummed, looking at him briefly before going back to his work, sighing heavily as he studied the file in front of him and signed it with his fingerprint, adding it to the digital collection. “Can you believe that it is only day sixteen on this ship and already five crew members have managed to lose either a finger or a toe?”

“I did see that Guang Hong Ji’s hand was bandaged,” Victor said with a frown. “But he’s a botanist. How would he lose a finger?”

“One word, my friend: carnivorous mountain pink,” Chris said. “Fortunately he managed to free his finger before the bloody thing could inject the poison. If that had happened I would have had to switch on the cooling capsule for his corpse. Those botanists…” Chris shook his head in disbelief. “Now, what can I do for you, my friend?”

Victor pulled out the prescription Phichit had given him and pushed it across the desk towards Chris, who picked it up and studied it briefly.

“Sure, no problem,” he said and rose from his chair, making his way through the room to a large cupboard that lined an entire wall of his office. Putting a hand on the scanner next to it, he waited for the computer to complete the authorisation. “Can’t sleep well these days, then?”

Victor shook his head. “Not really, no.”

“ _Authorisation complete. Welcome, Dr. Giacometti_ ,” the computer chirped and the cupboard opened, revealing a large shelf with various medication.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Chris said as he began to search for the bottle of pills that Phichit had prescribed. “Still the same old nightmares?”

“Yep,” Victor sighed, stretching out in the armchair, wincing a little as his joints cracked. He had been sitting far too much today. He would have to go for a walk on the holodeck later. Or maybe skate with Yuuri.

“Ah, shit,” Chris said to him, looking at him over his shoulder. “But no worries, those pills are really good. Ah, there we go.” He had found the box he had been looking for, pulling it out of the shelf and reaching inside to get the bottle of pills. Putting the box back into the shelf, the computer beeped and closed the cupboard again.

“Take them half an hour before you go to bed with a glass of water, and you’ll sleep like a baby,” Chris said as he handed Victor the pills. “They’re also impossible to use as a suicide means, by the way.”

“No need to tell me that,” Victor said with a frown, but Chris raised his hand in defense.

“It’s my job to tell you,” he said. “And I’m telling you this as both your doctor and your friend.” He walked over to the replicator by the wall to get them some water.

“But it’s not necessary,” Victor insisted, following him with his gaze. “I’ve moved on.”

“And I’m really glad to hear that,” Chris said as he returned to the desk with two glasses of water in his hands, giving one to his captain. “Because this universe would be a damn sad place without your incredibly beautiful face in it.”

“Oh stop, you’re making me blush,” Victor grinned. But this was the side of Chris that he loved and often needed; his silly and honest character, and his talent to turn every single situation into a sexual innuendo.

“Mission accomplished,” Chris said and crossed his legs casually, taking a sip of his drink. “Speaking of making people blush. Did Yuuri Katsuki already make your little Victor blush?”

“You are unbelievable,” Victor sighed and shook his head in disbelief.

“What?” Chris asked, placing his hand over his heart as if he were deeply shocked. “Really, Victor, I only have your wellbeing in mind! And besides, I thought you and Katsuki were getting along very well these days? You’ve been seen near the holodeck together several times. My eyes and ears are everywhere for the latest hot gossip.”

“It’s not like that,” Victor groaned. “Yuuri and I-”

“Oh, so you’re on a first name basis already? My, Victor, are you a warp drive? Because you’re moving fast!”

“Yuuri and I skate together!” Victor couldn’t believe his friend’s nerve. “Nothing more. Turns out he’s good at ice skating, and he’s showing me a few things.”

“Oh, I bet he does,” Chris purred, smugly smiling at him from behind the cup.

“ _Skating things_ , Chris,” Victor sighed. “That’s all we do, really. We skate and we talk about this and that. He’s nice. Really nice, actually.”

Chris studied Victor curiously, letting out an understanding hum. Oh, he had seen Victor around other men, and how he behaved when he was just looking for some company for the night. But around Yuuri Katsuki, he was different.

“Katsuki is a sweet thing, indeed,” Chris said eventually. “He’s friends with Chulanont. Well, he’s friends with basically everyone. Even Seung-Gil speaks highly of him, and you know that this is basically a knightly accolade.”

“It is…”

“So get a move on, Victor. Before someone else realises what a treasure he is and claims his heart. I can see that you like the guy.”

“It’s not that easy, Chris,” Victor said solemnly. “Why would someone like him want to date someone like me. I’m a wreck.”

Deep down, Victor knew that it was useless to hope for Yuuri Katsuki to return his feelings. He did not even know if the Japanese was into men. And even if he were gay - no sane person would ever want to date someone like him. He was a catastrophe. A broken man, barely able to function on his own. The thought of becoming a burden to someone else was an unbearable one.

“It’s true, you have a complicated past and you’re still struggling,” Chris said. “But you’re also doing incredibly well. And is it not up to Katsuki or any other love interest that you might have to decide whether they want to put up with it or not? Don’t make this decision for them. Allow them to get to know you. And you will see that most people are not afraid of the depths of your soul. We all have our demons.”

To many people, Christophe Giacometti was only the centre of every party, the one they called when they were in need of a laugh, or searching for some entertainment for the night. Many forgot, however, that Christophe Giacometti was more than that - namely an excellent doctor and a true, wonderful friend that never let people down.

“You’re a great friend, you know,” Victor murmured. “You always tell me the things I need to hear. Not the ones I want to hear.”

“I’m just trying to help,” Chris said as the computer beeped behind him. “Ah, damn.” He glanced at the screen. “We’ve got an emergency. Sorry, my friend, but I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, sure,” Victor said and rose, stepping out of the way as Chris rushed through the door to their left and went back to work.

Victor eyed the bottle of pills in his hands carefully. Trying would certainly not hurt. And if he didn’t feel a difference, he would just stop taking them. They would not knock him out like the stuff they had forced down his throat at the hospital.

No, he never wanted to experience that ever again.

* * *

“Oh man, I really miss my mother’s cooking!”, Phichit sighed.

They were sitting together at lunch in the mess hall, Yuuri’s back to the window as he pushed his food around on his plate. Phichit was looking down at his food in disappointment, sighing wistfully. Yuuri did not know what it was that the replicator had produced for his friend, but apparently it was a rather poor excuse for a traditional Thai dish.

“You’ll have to wait for that until the end of our mission,” Yuuri said. “But I know what you mean. I miss my mother’s katsudon.”

“Oh yeah, katsudon!” Phichit said. “I remember when your mother made it for us. You better don’t ask the replicator to try that. It will only disappoint you.”

“Right,” Yuuri said, taking a forkful of his salad. “You seem hungry. Had a busy morning?”

“You have no idea,” Phichit said. “I mean, I can’t tell you any details, but space fucks with people’s minds. I’m surprised that we all don’t go mad up here.”

“I’m surprised that I don’t go mad,” Yuuri murmured. Recently, he had begun to feel better about being in space. Although he still didn’t like looking out of the windows for too long, he could now at least bear the view for some time. Nonetheless, he preferred to have his back to it, and his work right in front of him to distract him. And oh, there was a lot of work to be done. Reports, translations, corrections, reviewing messages from Starfleet… sometimes, he felt like a space secretary. He had admitted that thought to Victor a few days ago, and the captain had assured him that this was certainly not the case.

“Well, a little bird told me that you’ve found something to distract you from space,” Phichit grinned. “Or rather, _someone_. Apparently you and the captain often go to the holodeck together?”

“He ran into me while I was skating a while ago,” Yuuri explained before his friend could jump to any assumptions. “He told me that he used to skate as well when he was younger, and asked me if I could show him a few things. So that’s what we do.”

“You skate.” Phichit did not seem to be convinced that this was the whole truth. “That’s all? You skate?”

“And we talk, of course,” Yuuri added, pushing his salad around on his plate. “About this and that. We… We’re friends, I guess.”

Phichit grinned like a Cheshire cat.

“What?” Yuuri sighed. “Come on, Phichit.”

“You’re _friends_ ,” Phichit repeated, leaning forward and clasping his hands as if he were thinking of a scandalous plan. “Is that how we call it these days while we blush at mentioning their names only?”

“Don’t you have any other hobbies besides gossipping?”

“It’s what keeps me going,” Phichit shrugged and finally began to eat, carefully chewing the poor excuse of Thai food before deciding that it was edible and wouldn’t kill him.

Yuuri shook his head. But then again, it shouldn’t surprise him. Phichit had always been like that, curious to get to know the people around him, always finding a way to build a friendship with them. Yuuri had always admired him for that ability, and he was sure that without Phichit at his side, he would have been very lonely at the Academy. Thanks to him, he had found friends, and he could count on Phichit in every situation. Serving with him on the same ship was the best thing that could have happened to Yuuri.

“He’s gay, you know,” Phichit said in between bites. “Victor, I mean. That’s not a secret. He used to date my friend Lewis for a while at the Academy.”

“I know that he’s gay,” Yuuri murmured. “But he’s also _Victor fucking Nikiforov_. Why would someone like him be interested in someone like me?”

“Uh, maybe because you’re cute as hell?” Phichit gave Yuuri one of his famous looks. “Seriously, Yuuri. It’s obvious that he likes you.”

“But he likes everyone. He even gets along with the Head Engineer, whose face most people have never _even seen._ ”

“And yet, he chose to skate with you,” Phichit said. “So what is it that you’re talking about when you’re alone?” He had gone into counselling mode, and Yuuri knew it. He put his fork down and leant back on his seat, folding his arms.

“About this and that,” Yuuri said. “Whatever topic comes up.”

“So what was the last thing you were talking about?”

“Dogs. He showed me pictures of his dog.”

“At least it was a picture of his dog and not a picture of his-”

“Phichit!”

“I’m just kidding!” Phichit laughed and raised his hands in defense. “But hey, you were talking about personal stuff. That’s nice. He’s very fond of his dog. It’s called Macarena I think.”

“Makkachin,” Yuuri corrected him. “Looks just like my Vicchan…” Thinking of his dog made Yuuri sad, as it always did. Phichit knew, and he reached out to pat his arm.

“Vicchan would be super proud of you for going on this adventure,” he said. “Hey, will you join us for a little get together tonight at the lounge? I was talking to Guang Hong earlier and he suggested it. We haven’t really had a drink together for some time.”

“I’ll try,” Yuuri said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “I have this massive translation waiting for me. Drichan to English, and Drichan to Japanese. That’ll take up the whole afternoon. I’ll have to tell Victor I won’t be able to skate with him today.”

“Well, then you definitely have to come to the lounge tonight!” Phichit declared. “He’ll miss you.”

“Oh, shut up,” Yuuri said and rolled his eyes.

But the thought of not spending the afternoon with Victor made him feel sadder than he had thought. He had gotten so used to the routine of work, skating, and sleeping that he found it odd to not meet up with him. Pulling out his communicator, he sent a quick message to Victor to tell him that he wouldn’t make it to the holodeck. The captain replied almost instantly.

_Too bad :( But I understand that you have to work. See you later! -V_

Phichit glanced at the screen, smiling knowingly.

**......**

Looking down at the translations in front of him, Yuuri rubbed his head, reaching for the glass of water to his left to keep himself awake and focused. Drichan was one of the languages that never failed to remind Yuuri to be grateful for the simplicity of the English language - as for Drichan, he had to consult the Universal Dictionary for almost every single word in order to get it right. And then, once he had managed to translate a paragraph, he would realise that none of it made sense, and he would have to start all over, trying a different approach.

There was a reason why Drichan was one of the most unpopular languages to learn at the Academy. But Yuuri had always loved the challenge, and he had passed the class with a stunning 86 %. The highest score that an Academy student had ever received before.

That did not change the fact that Drichan was a pain in the arse.

It was already quarter past eight, but Yuuri was determined to finish at least this bit of the translation before calling it a day. Unfortunately, the final paragraph on the page turned out to be the trickiest one, and he was not quite sure if it was about selling root beer to teenagers or rewriting the communist manifesto.

His communicator beeped.

“Lieutenant Katsuki?” Phichit chirped. “Where the hell are you?”

Yuuri sighed, pushing the button to reply. “Working.”

“Oh man. Still doing the translation? What is it about?”

“If I knew, it would solve at least half of my problems”, Yuuri replied, rubbing his eyes.

“Yuuri!” A familiar voice cheered, and Yuuri realised that Guang Hong had hijacked Phichit’s communicator. “We’re already waiting for you! Call it a day, yeah?”

Yuuri looked down at the mess on his desk, realising that he would not manage to get any of this done unless he worked nonstop until midnight. He could as well stop right now, and continue with it tomorrow.

“Fine,” Yuuri replied, and he heard Guang Hong cheer. There was a bit of rustling and then, Phichit spoke again.

“Guess who else is here?” he hummed. “Your new bff.”

“Shut up,” Yuuri groaned. “I’m on my way, okay? I just need to change.”

“Sure! See you in a moment!”

The line went quiet and Yuuri rose from his desk, shutting the programme down and making his way to the bathroom to take a quick shower and change into a clean set of clothing that did not have the Starfleet badge on it. It felt nice to wear casual clothing every now and then, although Yuuri liked his uniform. Slicking his hair back and putting on his glasses, he checked his appearance once more in the mirror, hoping that he looked presentable.

Why did he even care?

Shaking his head, Yuuri left his room and made his way to the _Dark Matter_.

The lounge was already full of people enjoying their evening as he arrived, music playing in the background to enhance the relaxed atmosphere. He waved at Maya who stood at the bar and poured JJ a drink while putting up with his antics at the same time. She waved back, gesturing at the bottle in her hands questioningly. Yuuri shook his head, mouthing _only water_ at her before going to search for his friends.

“Yuuri!”

He turned around, spotting Phichit and Guang Hong on a sofa by the wall, far away from the window. Yuuri silently thanked the Heavens for giving him friends like that, and made his way over to them. Only then he realised that they were not alone. Next to Guang Hong sat Minako Okukawa, their planetary geologist, together with the Nishigoris. And right next to Phichit sat - Victor.

“There you are!” Victor said cheerfully and raised his glass to Yuuri in greeting as he came closer. There was a faint blush on his godlike face, a clear sign that this was definitely not his first glass. “I’ve missed you!”

“Indeed!” Phichit grinned, winking at Yuuri. “I’ve gotten you some water, here.”

“Thanks, Phichit,” Yuri said and took the glass from him.

“You don’t drink?” Victor asked curiously. “Why? The booze is free!”

“You don’t want to see me drunk, Victor,” Yuuri said with a small smile, and Yuuko began to laugh.

“Right! We don’t want the disaster of our wedding to repeat itself!” She giggled.

“Oooh, what happened?” Victor asked curiously.

“No no no!” Yuuri said quickly and shook his head. “Yuuko, please!”

“Let’s just say that Yuuri is the typical man of Kyūshū,” Takeshi said with a grin. “Whenever he drinks, he completely loses it.”

“Really?” Victor gasped. “That doesn’t sound like you at all, Yuuri!”

“That’s why I refuse to drink while I’m here,” Yuuri murmured and sipped his water ruefully. No, he would not make a fool of himself and get wasted in front of everyone. Especially not in front of Victor.

“Is that Commander Lee?” Phichit said suddenly, sitting up straight. Yuuri turned around, watching as the First Officer entered the _Dark Matter_ and headed straight for the bar, greeting Maya with a nod and ordering a drink. Like everyone else, he was not wearing his uniform. Instead, he was wearing a pair of black trousers and a black fitted jacket that made him seem even more serious than usual.

“I’ve never seen him socialise,” Guang Hong said. “Or drink.”

“Is that wine?” Phichit asked, leaning forward to get a better look.

“Oh yeah, Seung-Gil is a wine person,” Victor said cheerfully and emptied his glass. “Always has been. I went to the Academy with him, y’know. Hey! Seung-Gil!”

The Commander turned around, and Victor waved at him happily. “Join us!” He called.

Seung-Gil raised an eyebrow, then tapped his watch and returned his attention to his drink.

“He wants some alone time,” Victor sighed heavily. “Just wait and see! I’ll get him to join the party. Right, Yuuri?” He put an arm around his shoulder and rested his chin on top of Yuuri’s head. “At least you don’t abandon me!”

Yuuri blushed deeply. He had to admit that tipsy Victor was adorable, although he was not sure what to think of the fact that tipsy Victor also was rather clingy.

But for tonight, he decided not to think too much of it.

He did not even notice that Phichit had taken a picture of them.

 

* * *

 

“So, what’s the boy wonder like?”

Otabek paused at his sister’s words, finding that he didn’t really need to _think_ about it. The thought came immediately. In fact, he had thought a lot about Yuri over the last week. “Yuri… has surprised me,” he finally said, turning back to reading the output that he had been studying.

Normally, he would have hated people being thrown into his engine room. He was a notoriously solitary man, and he did things alone. Despite Kenjirou’s usefulness, he still found that he could only handle him in short spurts. The kid was so cheerful, that it bordered on _obnoxious_.

Yuri though, was different. They had similar taste in music. The pilot knew more about engines and warp theory than he had expected, and despite the guise of _needing to learn_ , didn’t need to learn much. The three days that he had spent in Engineering so far, had consisted of the boy sitting on the floor with a book, bobbing his head along to music and occasionally asking Otabek a question.

Or you know, _staring_ at him.

Otabek didn’t know what bothered him more-- the fact that Yuri staring at him wasn’t a bother, or the fact that he kind of wanted him to keep doing it.

Maya saw the frown that fell across his face, and she smirked. “ _Surprised_ ,” she repeated.

“People don’t give him enough credit. He’s a bright kid.”

“He’s also not a kid,” she said, yawning with boredom. “He’s only a few years younger than us.”

He shot her a glare and asked, “What are you even doing here?” Aside from Yuri, Maya was the only _welcome_ person in the Engine Room, even if he would never admit it. Truth be told, Maya was always welcome, no matter what. Perhaps it was the twin bond, or whatever, but she was his favorite person in the world.

Even if this entire stupid thing was her fault.

“Everyone’s in the lounge right now, enjoying themselves. I’ve been tasked with dragging you up there.”

“So there’s a party,” he started with, adjusting something on his comm panel.

“Not a party,” she said, leaning closer so he couldn’t actively avoid her. “Just a get-together. Only a handful of people.” She paused when he grunted at that. “Who would _love_ to see you.”

“No one would _love_ to see me, Maya.”

At that, her lips curved into a wide smile. “Oh I could think of one, for sure.”

“Tell the Captain that if he wants to see me, all he has to do is come down here.”

“I wasn’t talking about the Captain.”

Otabek finally pulled away from the panel and looked at her. “Maya, I don’t know what you’re thinking up, but--”

“Nothing!” she said immediately. “Seriously Beka, learn to take a joke.” But he only sighed, and she continued with, “Besides, I have that nice thirty-five year Sarkolian Whiskey I’ve been hanging on to.”

“And you’d what, open it? Weren’t you saving that for a special occasion?”

She shrugged. “This _is_ a special occasion. Nearly three weeks in, and nothing’s blown up yet.”

But he looked at the engine dubiously. “The special occasion happens when the mission is _over_ , and nothing has blown up _then_.”

“Such a pessimist,” she said with a frown. Then she jerked her head towards the engine and continued with, “She’s not going anywhere. Come up and mingle a little bit.”

“I don’t--”

“ _Mingle_ ,” she interrupted, having heard it a thousand times before. “Yeah, I know. I’m ordering you to do so.”

“Maya, you can’t order me to do shit,” he said flatly. Really, his sister was mental. And if she was about to reason with her age, he’d just remind her that she’s older by literally _minutes_.

“No, but Phichit can.”

At that, Otabek rolled his eyes, knowing that the counselor _definitely would_. Aside from preliminary assessments before the mission, he hadn’t bothered with a proper session, but he could tell that the doctor  was a very pro-having-friends kind of guy.

“Yuri will be there,” she finally said.

That caused him to hold himself a little bit straighter, even if _he_ didn’t really notice it. “I’m not sure why that would make a difference.”

“I didn’t say that it would, but at least it’s someone you seem to get along with.” She said it casually, but there was a sparkle to her tone. Otabek narrowed his eyes at her slightly. “You _do_ get along with him, right?”

Yes he did, quite easily. He had found himself looking forward to the days that Yuri spent in Engineering, not because of friendliness or conversation, but because he was just a welcome presence.

It was weird, and he was still trying to figure it out.

“Fine,” he finally grumbled.

Maya practically squealed, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. “You know I love you, Beka,” she said. Then she pulled away and looked him over. “But for the love of God, at least _change_ before you come up there.”

Otabek never laughed, but he did crack a rare smile.

 

**.......**

He usually didn’t care, but Otabek did as his sister asked. He showered quickly and then put on a fresh set of clothes, that _wasn’t_ his usual fare. They weren’t fancy either-- just a plain pair of denim jeans and a deep burgundy t-shirt, but it was the first time in weeks that he hadn’t looked like he crawled right of of the warp drive.

He slicked his hair back smoothly and deemed himself presentable enough, not really sure why he even bothered. Since when had he _ever_ listened to Maya? And since when had he ever wanted to impress?

When he got to the lounge, he wasn’t nervous, just already over it. People tired him out and he didn’t like having to make conversation. When he stepped into _Dark Matter_ \-- the irony of the name that Maya chose wasn’t lost on him-- he immediately spotted Seung-Gil.

Well, maybe this wouldn’t be so terrible. At least he could bask in his misery with someone else equally as miserable.

Seung-Gil stood the moment that he saw Otabek, holding his hand out. “Otabek, it’s good to see you.” Otabek clasped it, pulling him forward gently, moving to pat him on the back. Hermit he might be, but there were a lucky few that he would consider friends. Seung-Gil and he actually went far back, to the days of the academy. “I never thought you’d actually _leave_ Main Engineering.”

“I don’t sleep there, you know,” Otabek said, pulling away and taking a seat. But Seung-Gil just _looked_  at him. “Okay, I don’t always sleep in there, but-- _why is everyone suddenly staring_?”

Seung-Gil followed suit and looked around them, and sure enough, the entire lounge had paused, regarding them with odd looks. “I think it’s because you’ve made an appearance,” he said. Despite his deadpan tone, Otabek could tell that he was amused.

“No,” Maya said, popping between them, “it was the fact that you two just hugged like long-lost brothers who hadn’t seen each other since last winter holiday.” She dropped a glass onto the table and moved to open a bottle of whiskey, pouring it out for Otabek.

“Hey, you promised--”

“I know what I promised, but I’ve seemed to misplaced that particular vintage. Instead, you should try this Drovelai Juniper Bourbon--”

“Are you saying that I came up here for _nothing_?”

Maya frowned at that. “Have you forgotten your dear, poor sister?”

Otabek scowled at her. She had literally _just_ been in engineering, and that would have been plenty. “There is nothing dear and poor about you.” Finally, he waved at the glass. “Fine, just pour it, will you?”

Maya did just that, before disappearing again. Seung-Gil smiled around his glass of wine, before sipping at it. “What did she bribe you with?”

“Really, _really_ good whiskey.”

“She bribed me with really, _really_ good wine,” Seung-Gil told him, lifting his glass to inspect it.

“And did she deliver?”

“Of course not. But for some reason, I expected it.” He took a sip and had the decency to not grimace.

And Otabek laughed, knowing that he looked like a downright fool. “It’s like you know my sister, better than I do,” he said when he stopped.

“No, only of the _rumors_.”

“Oh rumors?” Maya had popped over again, wine bottle in hand to top off Seung-Gil’s glass. He raised it, and she did so easily. “Tell me Seung-Gil, what is it the kids say about you these days?”

“ _Nothing_ ,” he said immediately.

Otabek chuckled again and said, “Seung-Gil was too busy babysitting Victor, and trying not to sleep in class at the Academy.”

Maya hummed thoughtfully, pulling the glass back up. “See, I was too busy sleeping my way _through_ the Academy,” she said wistfully, and then winked at the Commander. “You boys have fun, yeah?”

Once she was gone, Seung-Gil shot a glare at Otabek. “It wasn’t _babysitting_.”

But the Engineer shrugged. “You and both know that it was, just as we know we _both_ did it. The moment he’s left alone, he makes bad decisions.”

Suddenly, an awkward silence fell over them as they both considered what Otabek had just said. Finally, Seung-Gil placed his glass back down and said, “Are you worried that he might do something similar--”

“No,” Otabek interrupted. “No, I think that he’s learned since then.”

Seung-Gil’s brow furrowed. “Did he though? Or did he just _ignore_ it?” he asked, pitching his voice low so know one would overheard. The Commander leaned back in his chair with a sigh. Such heavy conversation wasn’t common, despite the man’s stoic disposition. “I was surprised when he accepted this Command. In fact, I was surprised when he chose to come back to Starfleet. People have no idea what happened, and they revere him as a _hero_.”

“I’m not sure that he isn’t,” Otabek said quietly. No, this wasn’t a conversation others should listen into, so he was glad that Seung-Gil had picked a booth in the corner of the room. “Choices aren’t always right and wrong-- sometimes they are _bad_ and _worse_ . He picked the _bad_ one, but it could have been way worse.”

“People _died_ , Otabek--”

“A few yes. The alternative was _all_ of them. The entire _ship_ , instead of those just on the shuttle.” Otabek sighed. “Why do you think that _I’m_ so freaked out? It can happen all over again. People have read their briefings and they _know_ how the engine works, but do they really understand that risk?” He glanced over to Victor, who was latched onto Yuuri, a reddish tint to his face. “If he has to go through all that again, we might actually lose him.”

The Commander frowned, and Otabek knew that he had struck a chord. Seung-Gil would never say it aloud, but Victor was the man’s _best friend_.

“At least this time he isn’t alone,” Seung-Gil said quietly. “He’s got you and me here.”

“And apparently Katsuki,” Otabek said with a hint of a smile, nodding over to the two. Victor was very _obviously_ drunk, and when he was, he got very handsy. “Speaking of new friends,” Otabek continued, turning back to the Commander, “I’ve heard about your legendary spats with Plisetsky.

Seung-Gil groaned loudly, dragging his hand down his face wearily. “Don’t mention him, please.”

“He’s not _that_ bad,” Otabek. “In fact, he’s really quite bright--”

“I _know_!” the Commander practically hissed.

Otabek raised his eyebrows at that, smirking slightly. “Ah, I get it now. He reminds you of _Victor_.”

“Victor wasn’t this enraged ball of _anger_ and _hatred_.”

“Yuri really isn’t either,” Otabek said with a shrug.

“Do you know how many times he’s told me to _fuck off_ to my face?” Seung-Gil asked. “ _Five_.”

“But who’s counting, right?”

“Any other Command and he would have been stripped of rank, and sent right back home.”

Seung-Gil was older, and therefore a little bit more traditional in the grand scheme of things. Victor was a little more relaxed as a whole, so Starfleet likely thought that Yuri would do _better_ under his command. It was probably why they had approved the Captain’s request.

“How many times have I told you to fuck off?” Otabek finally asked.

The Commander gave him this _look_. “You aren’t an Ensign, Otabek, you’re--” But then he stopped dead, letting out a quiet and frustrated groan. “He has such potential, it’s so aggravating.” Well, at least Seung-Gil wasn’t blind, it seemed. He at least saw worth in Yuri.

“Do you know what he does with me in Engineering?”

Seung-Gil took a sip of his wine, before looking at Otabek. “Snap at you with words that would deck a Sarkolian Soldier easily?”

“He reads.” To his credit, the Commander paused, looking interested. “He reads, and he listens to my music. And he actually watches, learning about the basic mechanics of the engine. His warp theory is good enough, and he figured out the gist pretty fucking quick. Victor was right-- Plisetsky is sharp as a tack, he’s just _bored_.” Otabek paused, circling his finger around the rim of his whiskey glass.

“Which means that your issue with him isn’t that he reminds you of Victor, it’s that he reminds you of _yourself_ ,” Otabek concluded. “Maybe you’re too old and wrinkled to remember what it was like at the Academy, but _I_ remember you doubling your course load because the classes bored you to tears.”

The Commander’s face scrunched up in disgust at the idea of being compared to Yuri. He wasn’t old at all, _barely_ over thirty, but old enough to be quite offended. Otabek had been in his first year, when Seung-Gil had been about to graduate.

“I’ve never spoken to authority in such a crass way.”

Otabek hummed, sipping at his drink to hide his smile. “Remind yourself that, next time that you criticize Victor.” He had been about to say something else, when Maya popped into his view, dragging along someone who was _very_ intent on getting away from her.

He knew from experience that her grip wouldn’t relent one bit.

Yuri like everyone else, wasn’t wearing his uniform, instead clothed in a black, long-sleeved turtleneck. His jeans were a dark-wash denim, fitting tight to his form. His pale blonde hair was tied into a braid, slung over his shoulder.

And he was fighting the woman tooth and nail, not caring that his obscenities could be heard from three rooms away. Seung-Gil shot him a look that said, _See?_ Otabek was about to smirk right back, but froze when he realized that Maya was pulling the boy _towards him_.

Seung-Gil noticed and made an excuse about finding another drink, but Otabek barely heard him as Maya pushed Yuri into the chair _right next to him_.

Otabek and Yuri stared dumbly at each other for a moment, while Maya only smirked before disappearing as well.

Otabek swallowed.

And then he downed the rest of his whiskey in a single gulp.

 

* * *

 

Yuri had never seen Otabek clean and presentable.

The three times that he had spent time with him in Main Engineering, Otabek had been dressed in worn work clothes and covered in layer of oil and grease. And that was a good look on it’s own, Yuri had to admit, but this was…

This was different, and _holy fuck he could not stop looking_.

Otabek was staring back though, looking him up and down, before swallowing thickly. And then he knocked the entirety of drink back, causing Yuri to blink. _Well, that was odd._

“I, uh,” Yuri started, but Maya saved the day, when she came over and slid a glass towards him with a wink.

“I’m glad that you showed your face, Yuri. My brother needs more friends.”

Yuri blinked at her. “Showed my face?  _You bribed me with alcohol_.” His gaze turned to Otabek, and he swore that he saw that man’s lips twitch into a tiny smile. _Oh no no no, don’t do that._ Because as if the man wasn’t already this manly hunk of literal perfection, with those high cheekbones and his hair slicked back perfectly and--

He slammed back a large gulp of his drink, not caring what it was, or that it burned like _fucking hell_ going down.

“She did the same to me,” Otabek said, lifting his glass with a mock toast to his sister. “Also, Maya-- I have friends.”

His sister frowned, before throwing a look towards Seung-Gil, who was standing by the bar, clearly waiting for a refill of his own. “You can’t seriously call that man over there your friend. He’s got the personality of a fucking hair brush.”

“Which proves that you know nothing about him,” Otabek replied smoothly.

“What’s there to know? The man is an asshole,” Yuri said.

Maya’s eyebrows shot high towards her hairline, and Otabek looked back at him, his eyes narrowed slightly. “He might be a bit _stiff_ , but there is _no better_ man aboard,” the engineer said tersely.

 _Fuck_. He’s pissed him off, he’s said something wrong, and now he had to fix it-- “Eesh, who spat in your drink? If he wants me to be all nice and clingy, then he should treat me with fucking respect.

“Then _you_ should treat him with the _same_ ,” Otabek nearly snapped, leaning forward over the table.

“Hey boys--” Maya started with, but they didn’t seem to hear her.

“I treat people _fine_ ,” Yuri spat. He leaned over the table as well, their faces less than a foot apart. “It’s not _my_ fault that they only see me as this stupid punk, wearing britches that are way too big for him.”

“Fine?” Otabek let out a short, sarcastic laugh. “That’s what you call fine? You’ve managed to piss everyone off so much that they threw you in engineering with me, so they wouldn’t have to deal with you. And now _I_ have too, and it’s not enough that it’s three times a week--  you tend to invade my space as much as necessary, even without my stupid sister trying to pawn you off on me, trying to make us _friends_.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that having me as a friend was such a _chore_ ,” Yuri spat, reaching out to grab a handful of Otabek’s shirt, yanking at it slightly. “You wanna go at it, old man?”

Yuri’s fingers were threaded into the fabric tightly, and Otabek just stared right back, his eyes narrowed in irritation. Yuri hadn’t realized how fine his cheekbones were, or the shape of his jawline, or even how his lips were perfectly centered, and that he wanted too--

Yuri let go so quickly, that it looked almost as though he had been burned. If Otabek thought it weird, he didn’t say anything, only leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest.

“You were the first person to talk to me decently,” Yuri finally said, swallowing another large gulp of his drink. He had no idea what Maya had poured him, but it burned so bad that his nostrils were on fire. “Like I was fucking _human_ , not this useless waste of space.”

At that, Otabek started, and Yuri saw the regret that flashed across his face. “Yuri, you aren’t _wasted space_ \--”

“Whatever,” Yuri snapped. “I’m just _done_.”

Otabek regarded him for a long, tense moment, and then finally stood, leaving him and Maya behind. His sister didn’t know what to say at first, finally settling with, “You know, everyone usually thinks the same of him.”

At that, Yuri laughed. “Otabek is a fucking genius,” he replied. “At least he has that going for him.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that he’s a damn hermit. You’ve never wondered why?” Actually… no he hadn’t. Yuri had always assumed that it was a personal choice. “It’s true that my brother doesn’t really like people, but he’s not _unfriendly_. People think he’s unapproachable though, so he just stopped bothering to try.”

 _Stopped bothering to try_.

There was a time, where Yuri had done his best to impress. Be it for his mother, or his grandfather, or for whatever Captain currently lorded over his position-- Yuri wasn’t without his own sense of pride. He was fucking _good_ at what he did, when given the chance.

Most just didn’t, barely looking past his age. All they saw was this tall and gangly kid, unable to fit in his uniform properly. And so, _he had stopped trying_. Trying was fucking boring.

It seemed that he and Otabek were actually a lot alike. He turned to Maya, only to find that she had gone back to the counter, presenting drinks to other officers. He looked towards the door, but Otabek had already stormed out of the room, no doubt heading for engineering.

Yuri wasn’t sure what bothered him more-- his stupid outburst, or the wild hormones coursing through him, because holy hell, Otabek was something else when he was all dark and angry.

“He’s not going anywhere,” someone said behind him, and Yuri snapped his gaze towards them, his eyes immediately narrowing. Seung-Gil stood there, a newly filled glass of wine held in his hand. “He’ll go to engineering, stay up all night, and still be there in the morning. You can apologize then.”

Yuri _hated_ that he could be read like an open book, and then--to his horror-- _the Commander took the seat next to him_.

“Speaking of _apologies--”_ He said the word carefully, like it physically hurt him to say such a thing, but-- “I do believe that I owe you one.”

“I don’t care, you old creep,” Yuri immediately spat.

Seung-Gil paused, his lip twitching slightly at the corner, as his gaze dropped to the table. He sipped his wine, and continued with, “I don’t hate you, you know. You’re annoying, loud, and the _rudest_ cadet I’ve ever met in my entire life, but I get where you’re coming from.”

Yuri rolled his eyes at that. “Oh yes, you, Commander Perfect-and-squeaky clean.”

“No one becomes a Commander by being squeaky clean,” Seung-Gil said, surprising him. Yuri couldn’t believe for a _moment_ that this man had ever done anything not-so-proper.

“Out with it then,” Yuri said.

“Out with _what_?”

“What is it that you did?”

Seung-Gil pursed his lips for a moment, but then said, “I cheated on my bridge officer’s test.”

Yuri blinked at that. “That’s a fucking lie.”

But the Commander shrugged. “They check for devices, but nothing handwritten. I snuck notes in my socks, because I knew I’d fail the planetary chemistry part.” Seung-Gil took another sip of his wine. “I also once turned in one of our Captain’s papers in as my own. He had been partying the night before, so he was too wasted to know the difference.”

“Does _he_ know that?”

“Victor made my academy life an absolute living hell, so I’m pretty sure that he turned a blind eye towards it.”

“That’s hard to believe,” Yuri said. “Like you, he seems squeaky-clean.”

Seung-Gil just gave him this look, and then he burst out laughing. Yuri thought he looked absolutely ridiculous. “ _Squeaky-Clean_ ,” the Commander managed, finally finding his words. “Plisetsky, if you open up the Academy Handbook, to the section about misconduct, Victor’s name would be the damn _definition_.”

Yuri then remembered something that Victor had told him, that first night at the party.

 _If people stayed the fuck away, then I wouldn’t be standing here on this ship, as its captain._ And then-- _I wasn’t lying when I said your file was interesting-- it nearly rivals my own._

“You know, my last ship was supposed to be the end,” Yuri said quietly, swirling his finger around the edge of his glass. “The only reason that I’m here, is because he requested me.”

Seung-Gil nodded. “He asked my opinion. I said you’d be a good fit.” Yuri looked at him suspiciously, and the Commander caught the gaze. “I’ve never once told you that you lack the ability to do your job. Disrespect for authority isn’t an adequate indicator of ability.” He waved over to Victor, who was practically draped across Katsuki’s lap. “Otherwise, our Captain wouldn’t even be here.”

And if Victor hadn’t been given command, Yuri would have been sent packing after his last ship, the disappointment that everyone had always told him he was. He looked over at Seung-Gil again, who was sipping his wine quietly.

He had _vastly_ misjudged the Commander.

“I think,” Yuri started, and Seung-Gil turned back to him. “That I owe you an apology as well.” And then he held his hand out over the table, waiting as he said, “I’ll try harder from now on. I can’t say I’ll be a model cadet but… I’ll try to curb my language at least.”

They both knew that it would never fucking happen, but Seung-Gil let a tiny little smirk cross his features. “The great Ensign Plisetsky, offering me an apology? Has the sun in the Korelian System gone Supernova?”

“Just shake my fucking hand, Commander,” Yuri bit out, “It won’t ever happen again.”

To his credit, the Commander at least looked amused, before he reached out and gripped Yuri’s hand firmly. They gave a quick shake, and then pulled apart.

“Somehow, we are both surprised that--”

“ _S_ _hut the fuck up_ ,” Yuri interrupted, and Seung-Gil laughed again.

And the weird thing was, Yuri didn’t really mind. This ship, wasn’t so terrible. There was a Captain (and apparently a Commander), who didn’t think he was a total fuck-up, and a bartender who always knew what drink he needed.

Now if only he could figure out all this shit with Otabek, because it was becoming more and more clear that Yuri was crushing hard on him like a fucking twelve-year-old girl.

But he wasn’t a girl, and he _wasn’t fucking gay_.

Except that maybe he was.

And the worst part was that _the idea of it didn’t really bother him anymore_.

It was like he didn’t know himself anymore.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Victor! But he's got friends that he can count on at all times.


	6. Red Alert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MissMarquin here: Y'all better fucking love us, because this is literally forty pages of unfiltered, unrestrained, self-indulgent gays in space. 
> 
> theangryuniverse here: This chapter was so much fun to write, and oh my god, so much is happening. I'm partly responsible for the chapter title. The uterus owners among you know what I mean. 
> 
> Content Warnings: panic attacks, ptsd, anxiety and mentions of suicide.

 

_**Red Alert** _

 

* * *

 

 

The attack came out of nowhere.

Victor gasped for air, reaching up to his throat to pull away the constricting collar, but not finding one. His hand cramped painfully, his fingers wrapping themselves around his throat and pulling on the invisible force that seemed to strangle him. His heart began to beat faster and faster, suddenly skipping beats only to restart again, shooting the blood through his body and into his head. “Gn… n-no…“ Victor breathed and kicked the duvet back, heels digging into the mattress. “No don’t… don’t think you can… b-bring me down…”

He threw himself onto his stomach, squeezing his eyes shut as his body trembled and tensed up. He knew where this was going. He had felt like this before, and it was not going to be nice. Victor knew the symptoms by heart, had studied and experienced them countless times, had them explained to him by people who claimed to know him. But it was more than just a racing heart, or feeling dizzy. It was the sense of terror, of impending doom, a hopelessness that he had never been able to describe. It would come over him whenever he expected it the least.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

Victor gritted his teeth as his stomach cramped painfully, as if a hand made of metal had taken it into its grasp, twisting and turning and pulling on everything within reach. Determined to make him suffer.

Perhaps he deserved it. Perhaps this was his punishment for what he had done, the punishment of the souls haunting him, of the souls that he had lost. Of the souls that he had killed. They were not where they belonged, they had never been able to bring them home, and he would remember their faces for the rest of his life. No matter how miserable it would be.

And it would, without any doubt, be a most miserable one.

He had blood on his hands, one of a kind that could never be washed off.

Victor cried out as the pain flashed through his body and dared to paralyse him, the ringing in his ears becoming unbearable as his vision went white. His heart seemed out of control, twisting and turning in his chest, racing and suddenly skipping beats, daring to burst. His head knocked against the nightstand as he fell off the bed, knocking over the bottle of pills and wiping the communicator off its smooth surface. Victor gagged, blindly reaching for the communicator, begging the Heavens for help.

“S-Seung-Gil…” He breathed as he pushed the button. “S-Seung G-Gil… L-Lee…”

For a terribly long moment, nothing happened. But then, he could hear the voice of his First Officer, sleepy but clear.

“Captain?” Seung-Gil asked. Victor shuddered, curling up into a ball on the floor. “Captain?” Seung-Gil’s voice had changed from calm to alarmed. “Victor, what is it? Are you well?”

“I… I c-can’t b…” Victor gasped, holding onto the communicator for dear life. “S-Seung Gil…”

“I’m on my way.” The line went quiet, and left Victor alone in his pain.

He could not tell for how long he lay there, his arms wrapped around his head as he begged the Heavens to stop the pain, to turn off the voices in his head. But then, after what seemed like an eternity, he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders, pulling him up, and he heard a voice speaking to him, fast but in a soothing manner. Arms were wrapped around him and held him close, strong palms loosened his cramped muscles.

“Victor, can you hear me?” Seung-Gil said emphatically, pulling away slightly as Victor’s breathing seemed to become even once more. He cupped his cheeks, forcing his captain to look at him. “Everything is okay, Victor, you’re fine, do you hear me? Your body is not under attack. You’re fine. You’re not hurt.” Talking to Victor was the key, and talking he would do until the attack was over. It was not the first time he had found Victor like this, shaking and barely breathing as the fear took over him. And each time he did, it broke Seung-Gil’s heart.

Victor held onto him, his nails digging into Seung-Gil’s arms. “I c-can’t breathe,” he whispered, his eyes wide in terror. “I c-can’t c-control my…”

“Yes, you can, Victor,” Seung-Gil said calmly, squeezing his shoulders. “Hey, listen to me, you can do this. You do remember the last time this happened, yes? We were in the park of the sanatorium, by the lake. You felt just like this and I talked you through it, and this is what I am doing now. Do you remember the garden of the sanatorium? The lake? There were swans, and you told me how much you used to despise swans because they were more graceful than you. You were complaining that you could never be as graceful as a swan while dancing and that-”

“F-Fuck swans…” Victor murmured, his grip on Seung-Gil’s arms loosening again as his breathing became calmer.

“Yes, fuck swans,” Seung-Gil said, relieved that Victor managed to speak and react to what he was saying. “But you found your own technique. That is what you do. You find your own way. And you will find your way through this, too, do you hear me?”

Victor nodded, finally relaxing as the tight grip around his heart vanished for good, leaving behind a strangely numb feeling, as if he had never felt anything at all.

Seung-Gil’s dark eyes ghosted over Victor’s face, searching for any remaining sign of discomfort. “You look better. For a moment I thought you were…” He trailed off as he saw the pills on the floor, and the empty bottle by the nightstand.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Victor?!” Seung-Gil barked, grabbing him and shaking him. “Don’t tell me you took all those pills!”

“I didn’t!” Victor whined, rubbing his head. “They’re my sleeping pills and I knocked them over…”

“Oh, I really hope for you that you didn’t try to kill yourself with them because if you did I will kill you with my bare hands!” the Korean hissed, sitting down on the floor in front of Victor. “I thought you had those attacks under control. You said that you hadn’t had any for almost one and a half years.”

“That is why panic attacks are such a bitch,” Victor said quietly and crossed his arms. “You never know when they come.”

Seung-Gil looked at him for a long moment without saying a word. The Korean did not have many friends. But of the ones he had, Victor was the one closest to him, the one he trusted the most. There was almost nothing that he would ever hide from him, and Victor had always returned this trust with eternal gratitude. Seung-Gil was sure that he was one of the very few people that knew the true Victor Nikiforov, and his frightened, lonely soul.

“I’m not blaming you,” Seung-Gil said and reached for his communicator that he had shoved into the pocket of his pyjama trousers in a hurry. “These things are… complicated.”

Victor eyed the communicator in his hand. “Who are you calling?”

“Christophe,” Seung-Gil said. “I just want him to check on you, yes?” He added as Victor opened his mouth in protest and pushed the button. “Christophe, Victor had a panic attack. Could you come to his room for a moment?” He let go of the button, waiting for a response. Usually, the Head Medical Officer would respond within seconds out of habit. But this time, the communicator remained strangely quiet. Seung-Gil and Victor exchanged a confused look.

“Christophe,” Seung-Gil said again, holding the communicator a little closer to his face. “Can you hear me? You should come and check on Victor.”

The line crackled as they waited for a response from their doctor, and just as Seung-Gil was about to put his communicator down, Christophe answered.

“Yes, hi?” He replied, sound more than just a little out of breath. “What’s going on with Victor? ‘S he okay?”

“He is, but it would be good if you could come and check on him,” Seung-Gil said, frowning at the communicator in his hands. “Are we interrupting something?”

“No, no, no, it’s fine!” Christophe replied quickly, and Seung-Gil and Victor could hear him mutter something that sounded like a quick apology, followed by the sound of getting dressed in a haste. “I’ll be with you in a minute!”

“Thank you.” Seung-Gil put the communicator down and couldn’t help but smirk a little.

“I believe we interrupted one of his romantic endeavours,” Victor said with a small smile and sat up a little, rubbing the back of his head that he had banged against the nightstand. Now that he had regained control over himself, he could feel the actual pain. Oh, he would certainly have a headache in the morning.

“I don’t even want to know,” Seung-Gil said and began to pick up the pills, putting them back into the bottle that Victor had knocked over and placing it on the nightstand. Then, he pulled the duvet off the bed and wrapped it around Victor’s shoulders before settling beside him on the floor, resting his arms on his knees as he clasped his hands. Victor shifted a little beside him, pulling the duvet tighter around his slender frame.

“Do you think I’m weak, Seung-Gil?” He asked his friend quietly.

Seung-Gil raised an eyebrow. “I believe you are one of the strongest men that I know, Victor,” he answered. “Any other man would have been broken by now.”

“But that is what I am,” Victor murmured, fiddling with the seam of the duvet. “I am a broken man.”

“You might have been broken once, but you have put yourself together again. Piece by piece.”

The Victor he knew now was in no way like the man he had been all those months ago, the man that had wandered the gardens of the sanatorium for hours without saying a single word. Victor had fought his way back to a normal life, not caring about the effort it took to get back to where he had once been. He had retaken all the exams, proving once more that he was a genius, and there was absolutely no one at Starfleet that was fit to hold a candle to him. That he was ready to go again.

“You think too highly of me,” Victor said and ran a hand through his hair. Before Seung-Gil could reply, the door opened and Christophe came in, wearing sweatpants and a shirt that he had put on the wrong way round.

“I’m here!” He declared, still sounding a little out of breath as he approached Victor and Seung-Gil and sat down in front of them, pulling out his medical scanner. “Sorry for the wait, I was a little busy.”

“I thought so,” Seung-Gil remarked and moved aside so that Christophe could get to work.

“I’m okay, Chris,” Victor tried to say, but the Head Medical Officer just clicked with his tongue to make him shut up and began to check his pupils by doing the swinging flashlight test. 

“You had a panic attack, yes?” Christophe asked and put the scanner down, reaching for Victor’s wrist to take his pulse. “Can you tell me what it felt like?”

Victor huffed. “You know very well what it felt like, you studied that stuff.”

“Yes, but these things are very subjective,” Christophe replied. “And your perception of it helps me to determine a possible cause.” He let go of Victor’s wrist again and took the scanner once more, slowly moving it over Victor’s chest to check his heart.

The young captain looked away. “It felt as if I were getting strangled,” he said quietly. “As if I were dying. My heart… it seemed to stop and restart over and over again.”

Christophe made a humming sound to acknowledge what Victor said, then checked the screen of the scanner for results. “Your vital signs are normal. Your pulse is a little high, but that is to be expected after a panic attack. When was the last one?”

“About eighteen months ago,” Victor replied. “During my training for the reassessment.”

“I don’t understand why it returned now,” Seung-Gil said with a frown, crouching down right beside Victor on the floor. “He was fine for so long. Why would it come back now?”

“That’s the thing with panic attacks and mental issues,” Chris said and put the medical scanner away. “They’re a pain in the arse.” He patted Victor’s arm reassuringly.

“Could they be caused by the pills he’s taking?” Seung-Gil asked, gesturing at the pill bottle.

Chris shook his head. “No, I doubt that. But sometimes, these things come back when we’re worried or when something is bothering us. You know you can talk to us about anything, right? You’re still going to see Chulanont twice a week?”

“I am,” Victor assured him and rubbed his face with a heavy sigh. “And it helps. But sometimes… sometimes I just… I think of some things that…” He buried his face in his hands and let out a frustrated groan.

Seung-Gil and Christophe exchanged a knowing look. It was not the first time they were trying to help Victor, and they were sure it would not be the last time. The events of the past had taken their toll on Victor, and they knew that a complete recovery was almost impossible.

But that did not mean that they could not help him.

“You know what this is calling for, Victor?” Chris asked and patted his knee. “Drinks.”

“What?” Seung-Gil stared at him.

“You heard me,” Chris said and got up. “Replicator, three glasses of  _ Your Mother’s Disgrace _ .”

“Oh God, no!” Seung-Gil groaned and leant back against the bed frame as Chris and Victor began to laugh.

“Are they still selling that one?” Victor asked as Chris returned from the replicator by the wall and put a full glass with blue liquid into his waiting hands. “I thought they stopped producing it after some people lost their tongues. Or was it intestines?”

“Alright, I’m not drinking this,” Seung-Gil declared and shook his head vigorously.

“Don’t chicken out,” Chris grinned and sat down cross-legged beside Victor, taking a sip of his own drink. “And besides, no such thing happened. Some guys thought it was a good idea to add 21st century Gorbatschow vodka to this. Who could have known that it would turn this delicious healthy juice into a deadly poison?”

“They were probably Russians,” Victor chuckled and took a sip from the drink of his Academy days, coughing as the alcohol burnt its way down his throat. “We add Mother Vodka to everything.”

“Believe me, I know,” Seung-Gil huffed and took a tiny sip of the drink. “I shared a room with you for a year, remember? You even used vodka as your mouthwash.”

“Ah, the good old days,” Victor grinned. “Wasn’t I a lovely roommate?”

“Only when you were asleep,” Seung-Gil replied sourly. “Whenever you were awake you would bring yourself and everyone around you into trouble. Especially me.”

Victor gasped playfully and placed his hand over his heart. “When did I ever do that?”

“Well, how about we start with Day One when you almost set the whole building on fire and I had to bail you out?” Seung-Gil suggested and raised an eyebrow. “You still owe me about 300.”

“Do I?” Victor frowned. “I’ll return it as soon as we get back to earth, I promise.”

Seung-Gil rolled his eyes and took another sip, this time a bigger one. “Just five more years, why should I care,” he muttered.

Chris sighed wistfully, downing the rest of his drink. “Ah, I miss the Academy days. We were the  _ trio infernale _ , remember?”

“You mean  _ duo infernale _ ,” Seung-Gil reminded him dryly and leant forward to look past Victor. “You two were fucking things up and I had to bail you out each time.”

Chris laughed heartily. “Do you remember the one time we sawed the heads off the statues in front of the building and you swapped them with the ones from the xenobiology lab, Seung-Gil?”

“If I remember correctly,  _ you two _ were doing the swapping and I was the one repeatedly telling you to stop,” Seung-Gil frowned.

“Yeah, but we all got reprimanded by Admiral Feltsman for it,” Victor grinned and wrapped one arm around Seung-Gil, the other around Chris. “Ah, I remember the call I got from my mother the next day. ‘ _ DON’T BRING DISGRACE TO OUR NAME YOU INSOLENT CHILD’ _ !”

“She’s not wrong, you know,” Seung-Gil huffed and downed his drink as well, not caring that he actually hated that stuff. “You really were an insolent child.”

“And according to my dear old father, I still am,” Victor shrugged, emptying his glass in one go. “Damn, I missed that stuff. Replicator, another three!”

 

**…..**

 

One hour later, a captain, his first officer, and their head medical officer sat on the floor of the captain’s room and giggled helplessly as they cried tears of laughter. It was as if the last few years had never happened, as if they were still the Academy boys they had once been, sharing a bottle of  _ Your Mother’s Disgrace _ on the floor of their small dorm room.

“And then-- and then Professor Krönke just turned her back to Victor and-- ohmygodicantbelieveyoudidthis!!!!!” Chris screamed, slapping his thighs and flopping to his side as he laughed into the carpet.

“I thought she would kill me!” Victor said between laughs and refilled his glass once more, spilling half of the bottle as he did so. “Oh damn, she chased me through the entire lecture hall and then-”

“-AND THEN SHE FUCKING SHOT YOU WITH THE PHASER!” Chris howled with laughter. “RIGHT IN THE ARSE!”

“Wrrrrong!” Seung-Gil slurred and raised his hand, lunging out to grasp Chris’ shoulder. “She fucking shot me! Right in the butt!”

“You can say arse, y’know, Gilly,” Victor chuckled and brought his brimful glass to his lips, pouring half of the drink over his shirt. “Oopsie.”

“I couldn’t sit propply for three weeks, y’know,” Seung-Gil said and shook his head. “Y’all are bastards…”

“Yeaaaah, we are,” Victor agreed with a deep hum and lay down, resting his head on Chris’ lap and pulling Seung-Gil with him, an arm around his neck. “But we’re the bestest of friends, amirite? You two are my bessssst buddieeeees. And Otabek. And Makkachin of course but my lil doggie isn’t with me at the moment oh my god please don’t tell my Makkachin that I’ve not cuddled with him for so long or my doggie will notice!!”

“Won’t hear a word from meeee,” Chris hummed and patted Victor’s forehead reassuringly.

“Gilly??” Victor asked worriedly.

“T’is not my name,” Seung-Gil slurred. “But the dog won’t hear’t from me either. Whatever.”

Victor let out a massive sigh of relief. “Oooh thank God I really have the best friends in the whole wide wooooorld.”

“In da universssssse!” Chris corrected him and stretched out on the floor.

“Oi, Chris?”

“Yes, Vitya?”

“Who were you with earlier?”

“Y’know, Vitya, a gentleman never tells. Everrrr.”

“But I wanna knowwwww!”

“Don’t assssssk,” Seung-Gil muttered sleepily, resting his head on Victor’s stomach. “Chris’ got so many dirty lil secrets…”

“Damn right,” Chris agreed with a thoughtful nod. “Whatabout your dirty lil secrets, Vitya? Didya already bone the lil linguist?”

“Nooooooo,” Victor groaned, shaking his head. “S’not like that. Yuuri’s so cute and sweet and ohmygod…”

“Why not?” Chris asked, sounding genuinely shocked as he sat up. “He’s got the cutest lil butt in the universe!!”

“I knowww!” Victor whined.

“Katsuki’s a good one,” Seung-Gil hummed. “Listen to me, Victor. Get a move on. Tell the boy you like him. Just do itttt.”

“Yeah, listen to Gilly,” Chris said with a yawn. “Yuuriiii…. Yuuuuuuriii… such a cute name…”

“The cutessst,” Victor agreed and yawned as well, shifting a little as he hugged Seung-Gil close and shut his eyes.

“Not for the Pli… Plistz… Plikkny one,” Seung-Gil muttered sleepily.

“But he’s a good boy tho…”

“Oh shut uppp…”

 

**…..**

 

The next morning, three very tired and very worn-out looking men sat at a table in the corner of the mess hall. Every single one of them was nursing a glass of water with two aspirin as they avoided looking each other in the eye. Seung-Gil had leant his head against the wall, dozing off every few minutes while Chris and Victor tried not to throw up at the smell of fried eggs and bacon coming from the next occupied table.

“Why am I even awake…” Victor mumbled. “I’ve got a day off…”

Chris huffed, rubbing his eyes as he reached for his water with aspirin and took a little sip. “I’ve got to work today, bastard…”

“Would you two please shut the fuck up,” Seung-Gil groaned.

Victor rose from the table with the glass in his hands and stretched a little. “Alright… I’m going back to my room. Maybe my head will stop exploding in a while…” He tiredly waved at Chris and Seung-Gil, but the latter had already dozed off again.

Back in his room, Victor drank the rest of his water and lay down on the bed with a deep sigh, curling up under the blankets. There was a reason he didn’t drink  _ Your Mother’s Disgrace _ anymore, and that was that he was no longer a boy of twenty years that could drink and party all night long without feeling a single thing the following day. Victor had never been so grateful for a free day before. And so, he rolled over in bed and pulled the duvet over his head, cloaking himself in darkness.

The computer woke Victor a few hours later with a rather persistent “ _ Video Call Incoming: Devora Nikiforova. Video Call Incoming: Devora Nikiforova _ .” The Russian groaned and sat up, rubbing his head that had finally stopped hurting so much after the two aspirin and a few hours of actual sleep.

Right. His mother had said that she would call him every now and then.

This time, she had chosen a very unfortunate day to call her son.

“Computer, put the video call on hold,” Victor sighed and climbed out of bed, stumbling to the bathroom to make himself look at least somewhat presentable if he had to face his mother. He splashed some cold water into his face and combed his hair briefly, then flushed the toilet and returned to his room.

“Replicator, coffee, please,” he murmured, picking up the cup on the way to his desk. Then, he sat down and took a deep breath before pushing the button that would answer his mother’s call.

Within seconds, the screen appeared in front of him, and with it the face of his mother that looked at him with a concerned expression on her face.

“Good morning, Máma,” Victor said, toasting to her with his cup.

“Oh, Vitya!” Devora Nikiforova sighed. “You look most terrible. Are you ill?”

“Charming as always, Máma,” he said, switching to Russian. “And no. I just had a drink too much yesterday.”

“Oh, Vitya,” she sighed and shook her head. “Drinking while on duty?”

“Of course not,” Victor replied. “And I’m having a day off.”

“Don’t let your father know,” Devora said and shook her head a little. “He’s been ever so worried about you. I hope you’re sleeping enough? And eating enough too?”

“Yes, Máma, I am,” Victor assured her and sipped his coffee. “Chris keeps an eye on me regarding that matter anyway.”

“Giacometti?” She asked. “Are you still spending time with that… you know…”

“He happens to be one of my best friends,” Victor said firmly as suddenly, a large poodle appeared behind his mother on the screen, barking in excitement. “Makkachin!” Victor squealed and waved happily at the dog. “There’s my good girl! Are you behaving, hm? Oh Makkachin I miss you so much!”

Devora laughed, patting Makkachin’s head. “Yes, she’s behaving very well,” she said. “She misses you. Everyone here misses you.”

“You’re my mother, you have to say that,” Victor chuckled.

“But it is true! You won’t believe who asked about you the other day,” his mother said. “Do you remember Irina Kovarikova?”

“The name sounds familiar.”

“She’s Dimitri Kovarikov’s sister. You went to school with him in St. Petersburg.”

“Oh, right, Dimka,” Victor nodded. “What about her?”

“Well,” Devora smiled. “I was talking to her mother the other day, you see, and she asked about you and how you were doing. And then she told me that Irina has just graduated from university and is now a doctor!”

Victor tensed up on his chair, already knowing where this was going. “Máma…”

“And she showed me a picture! What a pretty lady Irina has become! And she happens to be single at the moment, so I thought that maybe you could send her a message? She would be so happy to hear from you, Vitya, and-”

“Máma.”

“-the family is excellent, too. I remember how you and Dimitri used to play with her when you were little, and then you-”

“Máma,  _ stop _ .”

Devora Nikiforov trailed off, looking at him in surprise. “Vitya-”

“I will say this only one more time, Máma,” Victor said, forcing himself to stay calm. “I am gay. I like men. No women, no interspecies, only  _ men _ . I have told you so several times.”

“But Vitya-”

“No, Mama, there is no ‘but’,” Victor said, cutting her off. He had had this conversation so many times already, each time with either his mother or his father, and he was finally tired of it. “I am gay, and I’m not ashamed of myself. I am who I am, whether you like it or not. If you cannot accept that then that is your problem, not mine.”

Devora looked at him, her eyes that were so much like Victor’s now filled with sadness. “Vitya, my dear, I’m just worried about you. You know what people say, even today, and I am trying to understand, believe me, I really do-”

“No, you don’t.”

Victor had enough. He was tired of explaining himself to his mother and father over and over again, tired of feeling as if he had to apologise for the way he was to the people that had brought him into this world. It was wrong.

And he finally had enough.

“Vitya-”

“Unless you can accept that your son is gay, don’t call me again,” Victor said. “Bye.”

He ended the call before his mother could say another word, and shut down the programme.

 

* * *

 

He wasn’t sure what exactly it was that he was looking at, but the readings looked  _ off _ .   

“Kenjirou,” he said, tapping his finger against his chin, turning to another output reading. “How are the plasma relays on the left engine reading?”

Kenjirou hummed in response, twisting around the corner to stick his head through the narrow panel. Otabek would never admit it, but the scrawny kid came in handy sometimes-- he would have had to pull the entire panel off to read the display.

“They’re running a little hot, but it’s still within the acceptable range.”

Maybe, if it were only one engine. But this wasn’t the first time over the last few weeks he’d seen such a thing, and both engines were behaving as such. Otabek frowned, closing the panel to the second engine.

No, something was  _ definitely _ off, he just couldn’t place his finger on it.

Unlike a normal engine that used antimatter-matter fission with deuterium plasma, this setup was more complicated. Comprising of two engines, it used a more stable plasma built as a cooling system, not the source of power. Each engine contained the  _ tiniest _ particle of a quantum singularity that Starfleet could muster, and the system was designed to throw them at each other in the connecting chamber, before pulling them apart.

In a lab simulation, such a reaction would create an artificial wormhole. Otabek had adjusted his calculations to stop the reaction  _ just _ before that point, using the burst of energy to charge the engines. When done correctly, the engines remained charged for a massive amount of time, in effect, nearly negating the need for plasma fuel and warp cores.

If he could figure out how to make it absolutely foolproof, it would change the face of space exploration forever.

But he couldn’t. Despite his safeguards, it was a massively dangerous engine, and he spent more time worrying about the potential negative side effects if the whole system malfunctioned.

In a normal warp core, something like  _ running a little bit hot _ wouldn’t breed a lot of worry-- he would just fix the problem, and them move on. But here… everything needed to run perfectly, and the fact that this was becoming an increasing problem with no apparent cause…

Otabek frowned, crossing his arms as he regarded the engine. Really, he had never  _ meant _ for this thing to be built, and for precisely this reason.

“Kenjirou,” he finally said, “I’m going to run a full systems diagnostic.”

Kenjirou’s head popped up from somewhere in the middle of the contraption, his hair frizzy and sticking out. A little more than a month had passed the boy had been handed off to him, and he was trusted enough to at least  _ touch _ the thing now. Otabek was recently confident that he wouldn’t blow anything up.

“You think that necessary?” he asked. He saw the way that Otabek’s lip twitched slightly, and immediately continued with, “It just seems like a long and involved test, when you don’t know what you’re looking for.”

“That’s precisely why I need to run it,” the engineer replied, moving back to the main console. “This engine can be brilliant when working properly, but the constant fluctuations in the readings, and now with the core temps rising… If there’s something wrong, we need to figure out why.”

Kenjirou climbed down from the top of the engine, making his way over the Otabek. “You know, I’ve read the manual front-to-back and back-to-front, by now. I won’t claim to know this baby quite like you do, but I  _ do _ take pride in at least understanding it.”

Otabek heard the question before Kenjirou even asked it. “What on earth possessed you to design this?”

“Nothing made me do it,” Otabek said easily. And that was true. “I just did.” Being an inventor was a hassle sometimes. “It’s like an itch,” he continued with, starting to input the commands for the diagnostic parameters. “You can try to ignore it, but the itchier if gets, until you just  _ write down the damn idea _ .”

“And so that’s what you did? Just wrote it down?” Kenjirou didn’t sound very convinced, which almost made Otabek laugh. Despite their difference in personality, they were similar in their interests and the way that they approached engineering.

“I spent  _ months _ writing up proper blueprints of course.” Because if he fucking hadn’t, the entire idea would have eaten away at his brain like a worm, until he did.

Kenjirou leaned against the console, looking back to the engine. “So how’d you wind up here?”

Otabek had expected this question weeks ago, but the boy was delightfully unobtrusive, when it came to gleaning personal information. He preferred to talk about himself, than prod Otabek about his own personal life.

“Maya,” he sighed.

“The bartender?”

“Did you not know? She’s my sister.”

Kenjirou opened his mouth, but then paused, considering him. “I guess not, but I see it, now that I know. You two look alike.”

Kenjirou wasn’t  _ much _ of a drinker, so it wasn’t too far fetched that he might not have known. “She thinks that I need to  _ live a little _ ,” he finally said, his fingers flying over the console. “‘ _ Beka _ ,’” he started with, mocking her tone, “‘ _ You’re such a hermit. All you do is sit here and work on your bike. Whatever happened to using that brain of yours _ ?’ So she took the blueprints and turned them into my superior officer.”

At that, his intern laughed. “Well, she’s not  _ wrong _ , you know. What’s the point of being such a brilliant engineer, if you don’t use that knowledge?”

Otabek paused in his calculations, and looked at him. “My love for engineering is just  _ that _ ,” he said. “I like to know how things work. I like to fix them. I like to get greasy and get my hands dirty, and take something that was broken, and give it life again. It has  _ nothing _ to do with sharing my knowledge with the world.”

“Then why Starfleet?” Kenjirou asked.

Well, that was a unique question, and most didn’t like the answer. He didn’t hate space, but he wasn’t one for the love of space exploration. He wasn’t like Victor, or Seung-Gil, who took to the final frontier like it was their second home.

“They were the ones who offered me an engineering degree,” he finally said. “If you think my father was willingly going to pay for the schooling of an  _ engineer _ , then you’d be sorely mistaken. He wanted me to be something  _ useful _ , like a doctor.”

“Doesn’t he know that engineers create the equipment that doctors use?”

Otabek’s lips twisted into a smile. “Of course, but they aren’t the ones applying it. What good is equipment if there isn’t someone to use it?”

Kenjirou hummed at that. “Well, maybe it’s not a bad thing. If we can figure out the bugs in this beauty, you’ve basically figured out a new power source. It wouldn’t be just applicable to spaceships and engines.”

Otabek blinked. He hadn’t quite thought about that. He nearly reached over the patted the boy on the back-- nearly. Instead, he input the rest of his commands. “Computer, initiate full-spectrum engineering diagnostics test.”

“ _ Initiating Diagnostics Test _ ,” it chirped back.

“Computer, estimated time until completion?”

“ _ Estimated completion time is about six hours, forty-three minutes _ .”

“Fantastic,” Kenjirou said. “Enough time for a drink.”

“No, I’ll stay here and monitor everything.”

Kenjirou raised an eyebrow. “For nearly seven hours?” But the moment that he asked the question, it sounded stupid. Of course he would, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Otabek lived and breathed the Engine Room. If he had his choice, he would have just bunked in there, outright. “You know what?” he finally said, a crooked smile falling across his face. Otabek already didn’t like wherever this was headed. “We should name her?”

“ _ Her? _ ” Kenjirou rolled his head towards the engine, nodding. “I don’t name things,” Otabek said with a frown.”

“Didn’t say you had a bike? Surely it has a name?”

“I call it  _ bike _ ,” Otabek replied with very little humor.

Kenjirou made a face. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“This isn’t fun,” Otabek sighed. “If it were, death wouldn’t be involved.”

At that, the boy paused, regarded him quietly. While they hadn’t broached the topic of the initial testing of said engine, Kenjirou  _ had _ read ever report to come out of it, so he knew what was exactly at risk. He had been about to leave the engine room for that drink, but turned back around instead. “You know what? I’ll help you with these readouts,” he finally said, walking to the far panel against the wall.

“Kenjirou, really it’s fine. Go take some time off and have that drink.” The reports would be boring as hell, for the most part anyway, and Otabek had reached his maximum capacity for  _ small talk _ .

But the boy had already dropped himself into the chair, his feet propped up on the display. “Nah, its fine. Someone needs to entertain your crusty ass anyhow.”

Otabek’s eyes narrowed at the mention of  _ crusty _ . “I’m not--”

“What about Eva?” Kenjirou interrupted.

“What about  _ what _ , now?”

“As a name,” he said, waving towards the engine again. Then he thought about it. “No, that’s too pure. This engine is a feisty little thing, isn’t she.”

Otabek wasn’t sure that  _ feisty _ was the proper word. Problem-riddled, incomplete,  _ deadly _ …

“Wait, I have the  _ perfect _ one,” Kenjirou said, slamming his fist against his palm in excitement. “What about Maya?”

“You want me to name the engine after my sister?” Nevermind that he didn’t want to name the beast at all, but that idea was absolutely out of the question--

“Seriously, they have the same personality.”

Well… Kenjirou wasn’t  _ wrong _ .  _ Temperamental _ , there that was the perfect word. This dual-engine design was temperamental as fuck, and downright moody. And he never knew what was going on with it. If that wasn’t the description of his sister to a fucking tee, than he didn’t know what was.

He sighed once more and then dropped into his own seat. Looking over to Kenjirou, he said, “Call her whatever you want. Just don’t let it slip to my sister.”

One look at the shit-eating grin that Kenjirou shot back, and Otabek knew that this wouldn’t end well.

 

* * *

 

Usually, the Captain was an unending ray of optimism and sunshine, so when he  _ wasn’t _ like that, Yuri found himself fucking pissed off. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he eventually deemed it because he didn’t like change, and when stranded in space, the one person that shouldn’t change was definitely the Captain.

He had seen him drunk and considerably handsy, but he had never seen him like  _ this _ \-- a black hole of self-pity and desperation.

“There’s nothing in here,” Victor said, already feeling eyes on the back of his head. Yuri frowned, but went to sit with him anyway. The captain held out the cup of coffee, like Yuri would be able to tell the difference on appearance alone. “Black as my soul,” Victor said with humor, but his tone was flat.  _ Dead _ , even. “Black as space outside, even as black as Maya’s--”

“Stop right there, before I toss this coffee right on your head,” she snapped.

“Then don’t wear a black bra with a white shirt.”

Yuri winced when Maya slammed down the coffee pot before them, stalking off to go tend to another patron.

“Was that necessary?” Yuri snapped. “Lord knows she gets enough harassment from the others.”

“She knows I’m not interested.”

Yuri narrowed his eyes at that. “You might be as gay as a glittering unicorn, but that doesn’t make it  _ okay _ . You’re the fucking Captain.”

Victor laughed bitterly. “ _ Gay as a glittering unicorn _ ,” he repeated, but there wasn’t a shred of mirth in his voice. “That’s a new one. Perhaps I should send that one to my mother.”

Yuri wanted to be angry, but he could practically  _ sense _ the anguish in his voice, and he immediately knew that this wasn’t about something that happened on the ship. Victor sipped at his coffee, wincing slightly at the acrid taste.

“You know,” Yuri finally said, “I have no idea what really happened, but I  _ do _ know what it’s like to be constantly proving yourself.” He hoped to high hell that he hadn’t pushed himself over that edge and straight into the beyond. He had this idea that when Victor was angry, he wasn’t above throwing people into the airlock and ejecting them into space.

“ _ Oh you know _ ,” Victor said.

“If you think that my parents are this happy bunch who are  _ so _ proud of me, then think again, because Lord knows I’m not the picture perfect, little cadet--”

“You’re so  _ young _ ,” Victor interrupted. “So young, with so much to learn. I was the  _ best _ at the academy, not because I wanted to be, but because I had no choice. I am the  _ youngest Starfleet captain in history _ , and it’s still not fucking  _ enough _ .”

Yuri blinked at that. “Enough for  _ what _ .”

But Victor didn’t answer directly, instead letting out a sigh and replying with, “I haven’t overcome everything that I have, just to have it thrown back into my face.”

Yuri didn’t know what to say, moving to pour himself a cup of coffee. “You know, if it’s something that you don’t want to talk about with your crew, then go to the damn counselor. Isn’t that his job?”

Victor narrowed his eyes at him, scowling. “I’ll remind you that you’re just an  _ Ensign _ , Plisetsky, and I’m still your Captain.”

Ah, there it was, the  _ subtle _ reminder to shut the fuck up, because he had stepped on a nerve. Yuri found that he didn’t really care. What was he going to do--  _ fire _ him? “Or spill your guts to the little piggy--”

“ _ Yuuri isn’t a pig-- _ ”

“Oh,  _ Yuuri _ , is it?” Yuri sipped at his cup. “You know, it’s really fucking frustrating to have a captain that sees so little in himself, especially when you go on and on about the worth of others. Do you think that I wanted this assignment?” He paused to top off his cup. “I was about to be on my way home with a dishonorable discharge-- the  _ last _ thing that I wanted was to hear from fucking  _ Starfleet _ .

“And yet, despite that, you picked me as Chief Navigator. You read my file, and didn’t see  _ shit _ wrong with it. Why can’t you do that with yourself?”

“Yuri, you’re talking about things that you don’t understand.” The look that fell across Victor’s face would have broken hearts, but Yuri wasn’t falling for it.

“I think that I understand a hell of a lot better than you think,” he snapped. “Have you  _ ever _ wondered why might have happened to me, if I hadn’t accepted this post?” Victor looked at him, a thoughtful expression blooming across his face. “Yeah, me too. I wonder  _ every fucking day _ .”

Victor was quiet for a long moment, as they sipped at their coffee. Finally, he moved to standing, pushing away from his chair. Right as he was about to leave though, he turned back to Yuri. “You know Yuri, you can stop wondering. You’ve made a place for yourself here.”

“Then take your own advice, old man.”

And then, against all odds, Victor cracked a small smile before leaving him.

 

…….

 

Yuri used to look forward to spending his days in engineering, whether it was commanded or not. Ever since that night weeks ago, when they had their little spat however, things had been incredibly awkward between him and Otabek. 

And Yuri hated it. He didn’t want shit to be weird between them, he wanted it to go back to normal. He wanted to lay around in the warmth of the room, listening to the hum of the engine and the clanging of a wrench, a book nestled in his hands as he ignored it completely, in favor of covertly watching the engineer instead.

So what if it just happened to be a man? Shit happens, right? Crushes could be ignored. He couldn’t tell you how many times he’d been  _ interested _ in someone, and it just kind of petered away. This was no different.

But when he walked into engineering, and saw Otabek in his signature jumpsuit, kneeling by a warp conduit, tightening something with that stupid wrench,  _ his stupid muscles flexing _ \--

Yeah, this wasn’t something that super could never be ignored. Thank God Otabek wasn’t gay, because that was his only saving grace at the moment.

Kenjirou looked up from the console he was sitting at, and Otabek slid out from under the engine, grabbing at a towel that had been hanging from his pocket. Yuri swallowed as he watched Otabek drag it across his face, smudging the little bit of grease there around.

Kenjirou narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze flickering between them. Yuri moved to clear his throat, but as he opened his mouth, the intern beat him to it. “I think I’m going to take that break now.”

Otabek turned to him, wiping the towel down his neck. Yuri swallowed again. “Kenjirou, you don’t have too--”

“No offense Altin, but staring at your dumb butt all day isn’t my fancy,” he said, already packing his bag up. Then as he headed for the door, he shot this  _ knowing _ look at Yuri, before he left them alone.

“That was weird,” Otabek finally said, throwing the towel aside.

_ And your butt isn’t dumb _ , not the Yuri could  _ ever _ say that aloud. Instead, Yuri went to the panel were Kenjirou had been, flopping into the chair. He read the readout on the display, and then sat up immediately. “Full Diagnostic? There isn’t something wrong is there?”

“No,” Otabek immediately said, but Yuri didn’t quite believe him, and the engineer sighed. “There were some weird readings, so we’re doing a diagnostic just to double check.”

“ _ Weird _ ,” Yuri repeated. “Have you told the Captain yet?”

“No use worrying him, if there’s nothing to worry over.”

Yuri liked to think that he had come to know the engineer reasonably well, especially with is covert observation. And while his tone was calm, he was a nervous wreck. And Yuri wasn’t stupid. “I know that kind of shit that happens, when things go wrong with this engine, Altin,” Yuri replied tersely.

He reached out to press a few buttons, and Otabek immediately started, but Yuri waved him off. “I was just pulling up some of the results, don’t get your boxers in a twist.”

Otabek scowled, but went back to the engine, no doubt checking something else. Yuri sighed. This wasn't why he had come down here. It wasn’t his usual day to appear, but he had wanted some peace and quiet… accompanied by good eye candy. After his rather deflating talk with Victor, he had needed a pick-me-up. 

Greased-up Otabek was the perfect ending to a shitty day.

Except that his day was about to get a lot shittier. “Hey, didn’t you tell me that these engine cores were made out of tritanium?”

Otabek paused in whatever he was doing, looking back towards Yuri. He had told him that  _ weeks _ ago, and Yuri was surprised that he even remembered it. “Yeah, why?”

He waved at the display. “These readouts say that they’re only  _ part _ Tritanium. I don’t recognize the pattern of the other alloy, but it’s definitely not pure.”

At that, Otabek’s face blanched and he jumped down from his spot on the engine, making it to the panel in a matter of seconds. Leaning over, he rolled through the returned input. “If this analysis is right, these cores are at most, forty-five percent tritanium.”

“Why would the analysis be wrong?” Yuri asked, leaning away from the engineer to put space between them.

“It wouldn’t be.” Otabek cursed. “Computer, who is the manufacturer for the warp core casing of this engine?”

“ _ The company that manufactured the parts for this engine system are unknown _ .”

Otabek kicked the console and swore again. “Starfleet wouldn’t want people knowing about this project.”

“Do you think these are  _ trafficked _ parts?” Yuri asked, horror plain on his face.

Otabek thought for a moment, crossing his arms across his chest, and tapping his finger against his chin. “No, but they might have bought  _ cheap _ parts. Those aren’t as regulated as bigger name companies. If they wanted to stay under the radar--”

“They might have outsourced their contracts. Shit Altin, wouldn’t that mean this engine isn’t cut out for whatever it’s supposed to do?”

“Tritanium is required to contain the warp core, but this one isn’t even  _ half _ that, and we have no idea what the other alloy is yet.”

“The diagnostic likely will,” Yuri said.

“It’s got another couple of hours until it’s finished,” Otabek said, and then he looked at Yuri again, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It was  _ really _ lucky that you spotted what you did. Honestly, I could kiss you.”

Yuri  _ knew _ that it was an expression, and a common one at that, but his heart literally flipped as he slid out from underneath the engineers grip. Shit, the man can’t just  _ go around and say shit like that _ .

“Kenjirou noticed that the warp cores have been running a little hot,” Otabek finally said, turning back towards the engine. He went to the left one, pulling off a panel and messing with the controls. “Dammit, it’s worse now. I was so focused on the current diagnostic, I didn’t realize it.”

“Er, shouldn’t you inform the Captain about that?” Yuri asked, standing from the chair he had been lounging in.

“No time,” Otabek said. “Hand me the hyperspanner that’s in my tool box, will you?” Yuri followed to were his hand pointed, moving to retrieve the requested item. “If the casing is getting too hot, then it’s reasonable to assume that whatever the other allow is, isn’t designed to contain plasma.”

“What if it’s designed to contain  _ regular _ warp plasma,” Yuri asked, leaning closer to see what he was doing. “While this system utilizes plasma, it’s still not the main source of its power, right?”

“That’s correct.” Otabek paused. “The plasma in this sense is used to cool down the core, not to fire it up. It has a different composition.”

“Because the way it works is by  _ colliding _ the singularities together, right?”

“The burst of energy created when pulled apart, is then stored in the plasma--”

“But, if the containment isn’t working correctly,” Yuri interrupted, “the plasma would be superheated.”

Otabek grunted, turning back the the panel he was working on. “I could try to rewire the engine to produce less of an output. A smaller collision won’t make  _ much _ of a difference in the power stored, and it  _ could _ help with the problem.”

“ _ Help _ ,” Yuri said, frowning.

“If the problem lies with the parts, then the parts need to be replaced.”

“Good luck telling Starfleet. ‘Hey, remember that engine I gave you exact specs for?  _ Why the fuck did you ignore them _ ?’”

Otabek grunted as he swapped the hyperspanner for his wrench. Yuri knew enough basic warp theory to understand the mechanics, but fixing them physically was something else entirely. “Hopefully, we won’t have to. Victor can use mission funds to order replacements-- proper ones.”

“And say what? That the entire engine malfunctioned?”

“That’s for him to figure out, not me.” Yuri couldn’t help the grin the crept onto his face at that. “Hey, come hold this for me, will you?”

The entire ship lurched to the side, and Yuri stumbled before finding his footing. “Altin, what the fuck--”

“ _ Get over here and hold this _ ,” the engineer snapped, and Yuri did exactly as he was told. Otabek pointed to a panel and handed him the hyperspanner, as he grabbed the wrench again. “Just hold it level.”

“Can’t the hyperspanner fix this with more ease?”

“Sure, but where’s the fun in that?”

Yuri gave him an incredulous look, and snapped back with, “ _ Fun in that _ ? Altin, have you lost your fucking mind--”

But the ship lurched again, and  _ red alert mode _ kicked into gear, the main lights in engineering cutting out, before the back-up system flared to life. The room was cast in a bright red glow.

“ _ Captain to Otabek _ ,” a voice cut through the air. Otabek ignored the comm badge, and Yuri couldn’t figure out where it was.

“Aren’t you going to--”

“I’m a little bit busy at the moment,” Otabek spat, and then cursed. Yuri narrowed his eyes, realizing that whatever had happened, had been caused by whatever he had tried to fix the system with. The engineer traded his wrench for a different one, clearly panicked.

And Yuri didn’t know jack about what was going on, but he knew that  _ that _ couldn’t be good. Otabek never lost his fucking cool.

“ _ Otabek,”  _ Victor paged again. “ _ What the hell is going on down there _ .”

“You know as well as I do, that he won’t shut the fuck up unless you answer.”

“Then use  _ yours _ ,” Otabek snapped, punching in a complicated array of buttons on the comm panel. The computer beeped angrily, and Yuri was certain that was the opposite of whatever he was trying to do.

“Mine’s over there by my bag,” Yuri barely managed.

“What do you mean  _ it’s over there _ ?” Otabek growled in frustration, before shifting his stance slightly. “Mine’s in my--  _ keep that thing fucking level will you? _ ” Yuri adjusted his grip on the hyperspanner, holding it higher and flatter. “Mine’s in my back pocket. Just grab it so we can shut him up.”

Yuri blinked. And then processed his words. And then turned bright red as he thought about it,  _ really thought about it _ . Otabek glanced at him again. “Plisetsky,  _ just grab it _ .”

And Yuri did. He shoved his hand into his back pocket, tried not to think about it, and managed to find the comm badge with little effort. Clicking the button, he said, “Plisetsky to the Captain, sorry about the delay--”

“ _ Yuri _ ?  _ Where’s Otabek _ ?”

“I’m right here!” the engineer snapped, at the same time Yuri spoke.

“Uh, his hands are a little full at the moment.”

“I’m  _ trying _ to prevent a warp core overload,” Otabek snapped. The computer beeped again, causing him to throw his wrench to the floor in frustration. “Think, think,  _ think _ ,” he muttered. “Re-routing the conduits isn’t working, because they’re already overloaded.

“ _ Otabek-- _ ”

“With all due respect Captain,  _ now is definitely not the time. _ ”

Yuri had never once heard Otabek call Victor by his actual title, and to the man’s credit, he didn't seem angry. The comm badge crackled slightly between them and then, “I leave it to you, Commander.”

At that, Yuri shot a confused look to Otabek. “ _ Commander--” _

“Are you deaf?  _ NOW ISN’T THE TIME _ .”

The ship rolled again, this time banking left. Yuri felt the ship move to correct itself, and realized that Seung-Gil must have taken over piloting the ship.

“Drop the Hyperspanner,” Otabek said. “We’ll try something else.”

“What else could you possibly do?” Yuri snapped.

Otabek turned to him, his expression severe. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about circuitry, would you?”

Yuri was flabbergasted. “ _ Circuitry _ ? Why the fuck would I?”

“Right.” Otabek paused again, doing that thing where he tapped his finger against his chin. Yuri would be lying, if he said he wasn’t a fan of that particular tic. “I know enough… I think. I’ll go rewire it manually.”

Yuri followed him, as he moved to go around the back of the right engine. “When you say rewire, you don’t mean  _ rewire _ , do you?” Because that would involve doing very delicate work, very close to a very dangerous warp core.

“The computer panel is fried. If I’m going to fix this, it’s going to have to be with good old elbow grease.”

“Yeah, and  _ possibly kill yourself _ .”

Otabek stopped dead, turning back to Yuri. He was shorter, but Otabek just had this  _ intense  _ aura and fuck, if they weren’t in a position of  _ quite literal peril _ , he just might have jumped his bones then and there. “What’s the alternative then?” Otabek snapped, running a tired hand through his hair. “There’s a reason I  _ never wanted this fucking ship to be built _ .”

Yuri could feel it, his desperation. Otabek knew that he had no choice, and logically, Yuri did to. It wasn’t like he could just  _ not do a damn thing _ . Yuri steeled himself, and standing straighter, he asked, “What can I do?”

“Grab the light that’s in my tool box. It’ll be a tight squeeze with both of us back there, but it’s pretty dark and I’ll need both my hands.”

Yuri found the handheld flashlight, and followed Otabek into the crevice behind the engine. It was a tight fit, but not overtly awkward-- he still had room to stand decently, once Otabek knelt down. He removed a panel from the wall, revealing complicated looking electronic circuitry. 

  
“Tell me that you know what you’re doing.”

Otabek didn’t answer, diving right into work. He twisted and pulled at several of the wires, cutting one here, before tying it off to another. It looked like nonsense, but Otabek seemed to have a general idea. Maybe.

“How do we know if this works?”

“The ship doesn’t blow up.”

“So the odds aren’t good,” Yuri surmised.

“ _ Plisetsky _ .”

“Right, right, I’ll keep my trap shut.”

The next few moments went by in silence, Yuri  _ itching _ for something to happen, literally anything. There was a tiny spark and Otabek jerked back. The engines cut off, going dark, and the entire ship lurched again, very far,  _ far  _ to the right. Yuri barely caught himself against the wall, as Otabek climbed out from under the engine.

“Was that supposed to happen _?” _ Yuri snapped, following Otabek back to the comm panel. Despite his anger, he shined the light over the display, despite being lighted.

“A momentary issue. I think I can correct it.”

“ _ Think _ . You’re fucking insane, Altin.”

Otabek didn’t bother to correct him, instead trying to adjust the containment of the plasma in the warp core.  _ If _ he had rewired everything alright, the force caused by the collider would be halved, allowing them time to figure out a better situation and fix.

The room was still dark, and as Otabek input his last command, the ship veered to the opposite side. Yuri and Otabek pitched over. The Engineer grunted as his head slammed against the metal floor, and Yuri barely stopped the same from happening to himself.

But the ship steadied itself and the lights flickered back on, and Yuri found himself hanging over Otabek precariously, their hips slotted together comfortably. Yuri’s mouth fell open as he froze, but Otabek didn’t move either.

Wait a moment,  _ why wasn’t Otabek freaking the fuck out? _

Yuri didn’t want to move. Weeks of ignoring this stupid thing, covertly watching from afar, and now he was in this position, and he just didn’t want to move. Or ruin it. Or  _ something _ . He waited for Otabek to push him off, or carefully extract himself, but the engineer did no such thing.

Yuri’s hair had pulled loose from his braid in the excitement, partially hanging between them. Otabek lifted hand towards his face, Yuri’s heart sped up, and  _ this was definitely not how he ever thought this moment would happen, but here it was and-- _

“ _Otabek? Yuri?_ ” Otabek’s comm badge crackled to life, Yuri having shoved it in his back pocket earlier. “ _Is everything alright down there?_ ”

Otabek shifted, reaching into Yuri’s back pocket, and the pilot froze. He  _ swore _ there was a hint of a smirk, as he pulled it out  _ a little too slowly _ , and before Yuri could even contemplate such a thing, Otabek had clicked the link on for a response.

“We’re okay down here, Victor,” he said,  _ like he hadn’t just groped the fucking hell out of him. _ .

Yuri’s head was spinning. He didn’t know what to fucking do. Maya had told him that he wasn’t gay, and Yuri had thought he had played it cool. Had Otabek noticed? Was he making fun of him?  Or maybe he was super overthinking this, and Otabek had literally just pulled the badge out of his pocket, no ulterior motives.

Either way, Yuri didn’t fucking care, because his world was literally turned upside down at the moment and he didn’t want it to end.

“ _ Define okay,” _ Victor finally asked. “ _ Okay as in, the problem is fixed with minimal casualties, or okay as in, We’ve barely managed to plug the issue, but we might to regrow a hand somewhere.” _

“Okay as in Yuri and I are fine, and I’ve fixed the problem for the moment.”

“ _ Explain _ .”

“I don’t think that now is a good time.”

Yuri swallowed, his heart skipping a beat.

_ “Otabek, you sent the ship into red alert, and from my readings up here, nearly destroyed the warp core. I demand a report immediately _ .”

Yuri could tell that Otabek was about to say something, but he paused, thinking better of it. Finally, he said, “Give me about twenty minutes, and I’ll meet you in your ready room.”

“ _ Twenty minutes-- Otabek, I swear to-- _ ”

But Otabek turned off the comm badge, tossing it to the side. And then he raised his hand again, intent on finishing whatever he was about to do when Victor interrupted.

Which was to rub his thumb across Yuri’s cheek, wiping away at something. “Grease,” he said simply. “Probably from Maya.”

“ _ Maya,” _ Yuri spat.

“Kenjirou named the engine after her. Considering all of what just happened, seems fitting. She’s like to blow at any moment.”

Yuri pulled off of him immediately, stumbling to stand straight. God above, he was stupid, thinking that Otabek could possible have wanted what he did--

Which was  _ what _ , exactly?

Yuri had asked himself that question for weeks now, but the answer was very fucking clear at the moment.

Otabek pulled himself up, dusting off his jumpsuit, entirely nonchalant about the entire thing.  _ The thing _ . Yuri was a pathetic, waste of a man, pining over Otabek.

“I hate filing reports,” Otabek muttered, going back to the comm panel. “But I think that did the trick for now. I’ll tell Victor that we need replacement parts as soon as possible though.”

“Altin--” Yuri started, but Otabek kept on, moving to pack up a few of the tools that had been scattered around.

“Thanks Yuri. That was a tight spot back there, but I don’t think I could have done it without your help.” The words were so sincere, that it practically melted his stupid heart.

“ _ Altin _ \--”

Otabek had moved to the entrance and then paused, looking back. “Oh by the way, it’s Otabek. Don’t call me  _ Altin _ \-- that’s my father.” Before Yuri could respond, Otabek gave him a small wave and then left the room, no doubt to ready his report. 

And Yuri just  _ stood _ there, trying to calm his wildly beating heart, trying to figure out point A to fucking point B, but the room was just a spinning mess instead.

He needed a drink. He  _ really _ needed a drink.

Or a cold shower.

Or both.

Definitely both.

Because he was without a doubt, absolutely fucked.

 

……

 

“Maya, I have a problem,” Yuri started with, but sitting there at the bar, with her just  _ waiting _ , he lost his words almost immediately.

He had come here for a fucking drink, not to spill his guts to Otabek’s  _ sister _ . Speaking of--

_ It’s Otabek _ .

Yuri dropped his head to the counter, hissing at the cold granite underneath his forehead.

“Does this have anything to do with all that excitement earlier?”

“Yes,” he immediately said. “No,” he then amended. “Kind of,” he finally settled with.

Maya leaned against the counter, concern clear on her face. What the fuck would he gain from even telling her? Would she laugh? Would she be angry? Or worse-- would she slap unwarranted advice on him.

He lifted his head, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly. 

“Maya, I have a problem,” he said again.

Maya raised an eyebrow, readying the pot of coffee that had just been brewed. “Yeah, you said that.”

“I think I might be gay,” he suddenly blurted.

Maya blinked. And then stood straight, dropping the coffee pot onto the counter. “This is about my brother, isn’t it.”

And Yuri just  _ looked  _ at her. “Is it that fucking obvious?” he asked with a heavy sigh.

Maya disappeared under the counter, before standing back up and revealing a  _ very _ expensive bottle of Sarkolian whiskey. “I think something stronger than coffee is needed.”

Yuri downed nearly the entire cup in one go.

 

* * *

 

Yuri had been cute, when mildly angry. His little spat about Seung-Gil in the lounge had been heated, but adorable, in a weird  _ this boy reminds me of an annoyed kitten _ , kind of way.

But then he had seen Yuri  _ angry _ . Like really pissed, about to rip his head off because they just might die, kind of angry. And it was like he had turned from a kitten into this puma-tiger-scorpion kind of thing, and Otabek was having  _ way more problems  _ with that, then he would ever fucking admit to.

He wasn’t interested in men.

Except maybe Yuri.

He had no intention on dating one.

Until Yuri.

He had certainly never been about to kiss one not once,  _ but twice _ . And he swore to God above, that he would have strangled Victor, if he could. But he couldn’t, and he had to file a damn report, right after the coldest shower of his entire damn life.

He hesitated, before banging on the door. And then waited. He wondered how long he would last, until he bolted. But before he could, the door slid open, revealing a half-asleep Maya, her hair mussed up and her pajamas rumpled.

And if looks could kill, her glare would  _ obliterate _ .

“Jesus fucking christ,” she murmured.

“ _ We’re muslim _ ,” he almost snapped, but held back to a clipped tone.

“ _ Beka  _ it’s _ \-- _ ” She paused and asked the computer what time it was, before resuming. “It’s fucking 0300 in the morning. What do you want?”

“Maya, I have a problem,” he said, and her eyes narrowed at him shrewdly, just  _ waiting _ .

“Go on,” she prompted.

“What if I--” And then he paused. “What I mean to say is,  _ what if I were gay _ ?”

And she blinked. And then she leaned out the door to look down the corridor. Then Maya dragged her hand down her face tiredly, before ushering him in. And then she found a  _ very expensive bottle _ of--

“ _ Hey _ , isn’t that the whiskey you couldn’t find?”

“Seems like it popped up at just the right time.”

Otabek frowned, before flopping onto her bed. “Right, because a  _ stiff drink _ is the right answer to my problem.”

“Who said anything about a stiff drink? This is a fucking celebration.”

Otabek wasn’t too sure about that, but figured it wiser to say nothing.

“Cheers,” she said, lifting her drink in a mock toast. “My baby brother has finally fallen in love.”

“Maya--”

“This is about Yuri, isn’t it?”

Otabek’s mouth snapped shut, and he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Maya cocked her head to the side, smiling slyly as she downed another small sip.

Otabek threw back his entire glass instead.

 

* * *

 

There were not many things that Yuuri was particularly proud of when it came to his career. A xenolinguist was hardly in the spotlight. It was a job one did in the privacy of an office, or in a library. It did not happen very often that a xenolinguist had the time to shine. Yes, there even were people that believed that sooner or later, linguists would become obsolete, thanks to the translating devices that you could buy at almost every corner. But Yuuri had never thought that way. A machine could not determine the fine nuances of an idiolect, the passive-aggressive usage of certain clicking sounds, or the passion behind a declaration of love spoken in high Donwar. 

It was the job of a xenolinguist to determine and define these things, and to work with them in an appropriate way.

Yuuri had always loved his job, and he had never expected to achieve any kind of milestone in his career.

But seeing his name in the list of co-editors of the Matsushiba Universal Dictionary for Alien Languages had been…  _ something _ .

It still felt strange to find his name on the cover of the book each time he used it, and Yuuri tried not to pay too much attention to the things he had added to it. For the things he had worked on at the Academy, he hardly needed to double-check the information in the book. But there were languages he was not entirely fluent in, languages that seemed to change as you were thinking about them. And in such cases, he was grateful to have the dictionary with him.

He let out a heavy sigh as he flipped through the paper copy of the book, searching for the chapter about inflections. They had a digital version on the computer, but he preferred to work with the book, enjoying the feeling of paper between his fingers. His corner on the bridge was a quiet one, people hardly disturbed him there, giving him the opportunity to focus entirely on his translations. Every now and then, the computer would present a message from Starfleet to him, which Yuuri would double check, confirm, and then forward to the Captain. Sometimes, Victor would come to his workplace afterwards, dictating a reply, sometimes asking Yuuri for suggestions. They worked well together, and Yuuri enjoyed being around him.

In Victor’s presence, he felt less like a space secretary and more like an actual scientist.

Victor Nikiforov was not the way he had thought he would be. He was kind, gentle, and understanding. Funny, intelligent, and incredibly handsome on top of that. Now Yuuri understood why people were feeling drawn to him, and why they longed for his company. It was his kind and open-minded personality that made everyone around him feel welcome and appreciated. And that was a sensation that not many people got to experience these days.

Victor Nikiforov was a fantastic captain, and the crew trusted him completely. But to Yuuri, he was also a wonderful friend. And somehow, over the course of the last few weeks, something more than just friendship seemed to have blossomed between them.

Yuuri was not sure how it had started, but he was very much aware of the glances that Victor threw at him. The little touches to his hand whenever they were alone, the hugs they shared each time they met up on the holodeck. The secrets they shared over a cup of coffee in the lounge, under the ever so watchful eyes of Maya.

And each time, Yuuri’s heart began to flutter like an overly excited little bird. It was a feeling he would not have traded for anything in the world.

One time, they had spent a free afternoon together in the lounge, sharing countless cups of tea and their best jokes until they had cried tears of laughter. Another time, Victor had showed him every single picture of his dog Makkachin that he had ever taken, explaining every single one of them in great detail while gushing over his poodle. Sometimes, they would completely forget the time over their drinks in the lounge, and Maya would have to kick them out. Whenever they ran into each other at the gym, they would spend the rest of their session together. The time Yuuri got to spend with Victor was precious, and he valued every single moment of it.

But these days, Victor was different. He seemed lost in his thoughts, not able to focus entirely on his tasks. Commander Lee had to bring files to the captain’s office repeatedly that he had mindlessly left behind, and whenever they went to the mess hall together for lunch, Victor barely touched his plate, living off coffee and water instead. Yuuri had at first suspected that Victor was merely overworked, or that he had not been sleeping very well. But as his behaviour had not improved after almost a week, and after he had crashed against the wall of the rink during practice, he was sure that there was something more serious behind this sudden change.

Even the gentle, little touches had stopped.

Yuuri had tried to speak to Victor, trying to lead the conversations they had to certain topics, hoping that the Russian would open up to him, but Victor would do no such thing. Instead, he seemed to avoid subjects like family matters or his Academy days altogether, and Yuuri began to wonder if something had happened in Victor’s private life that unsettled him greatly.

Yuuri did not dare to inquire any further. Instead, he decided that he should be grateful that Victor had not abandoned their skating sessions on the holodeck as well.

But with a student barely paying attention to what was being said, and doing the jumps only half-hearted, it was not of much fun.

And then, in the early evening hours after a minor malfunction of the ship that had given them all small heart attacks, and a particularly nerve-wrecking and hopeless training session, Yuuri decided that enough was enough.

“You should get off the ice and go talk to Phichit,” Yuuri said and folded his arms, leaning against the railing as Victor looked at him in surprise.  _ Almost like lost puppy _ , Yuuri thought. “Whatever it is that is bothering you, Victor, it’s keeping you from focusing. And on the ice that can be really dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Victor looked at him with an expression on his usually so beautiful face that broke Yuuri’s heart. At first, it was genuine surprise, followed by realisation and then a deep sadness, paired with disappointment and regret. It was the saddest expression that Yuuri had ever seen in his life.

“I can do this better,” Victor said, gesturing at his skates. “Believe me, I can do this salchow-”

“I believe you, Victor,” Yuuri said calmly. “But you cannot do it under these circumstances.”

He pushed himself off the railing and skated over to Victor, stopping in front of him. “You skate better than most people would after a few weeks. But… something is on your mind, and it keeps you from functioning the way you usually do and…” Yuuri nervously scratched the back of his head. Yes, Victor was his friend, but he was also his captain. He had to be careful with the things he said, and how he put them. “I… I might be wrong, of course, but to me, it seems like you’re worried about something and if there’s anything I can do to help then please let me know.” He met Victor’s gaze, forcing himself not to lose himself in those beautiful eyes that he loved so much. Usually, they were sparkling with glee and excitement. But these days, there was a deep sadness in them.

“I’m sorry,” Victor said eventually, and his voice was surprisingly calm and gentle. “I shouldn’t have wasted your time like this.”

“You didn’t waste my time, Victor,” Yuuri said and reached out to touch his arm. “But I’m not blind. I can see that there is something that is bothering you. And it’s not just me, the others can see it too. I just want you to know that if you need someone to talk that is not a counsellor, I’m here.” He let go of his arm again and slid backwards on the ice.

His mother had always told him that if one wanted to help a friend, one had to give them the certainty of knowing that they would be listened to if they decided to open up. But other than that, one had to let them be. It was a valuable piece of advice that Yuuri had always cherished, as it described perfectly how he wanted to be treated whenever something bothered him. Not always it was necessary to talk about these matters. But it was always reassuring to know that there were people who would be willing to listen if he needed them to. And Yuuri wanted to make sure that Victor knew that, too.

But Victor began to cry.

At first, it was only a single tear that rolled down his pale cheek, and then another after another, until his bright blue eyes were blurred and a quiet, barely audible sob escaped him.

Yuuri’s eyes widened. “Victor…” He breathed and reached for him once more, this time embracing his friend and pulling him close. “Victor, what happened?”

The other man pulled him instinctively closer to him, and Yuuri swallowed thickly as Victor began to cry into his shoulder, his sobs barely audible, but they were there. And every single one of them pierced through Yuuri’s heart like a knife. He buried his hands in the fabric of Victor’s shirt, holding his friend as he let out the things that he’d had bottled up deep inside him. His mind was racing, jumping from one possible explanation to the next. Had someone died? Had he received bad news from home? Did someone fall sick?

Victor then mumbled something into his shoulder, but Yuuri couldn’t understand a single thing. “I’m sorry, Victor, what did you say?” Yuuri asked nervously, pulling away from him just a little to be able to see his face. His eyes were red and full of sorrow, in them the look of a child that had been left behind.

Victor sniffed. “I said I broke off contact with my mother,” he rasped, reaching up to wipe the tears away with the back of his hand.

“Oh.” Yuuri had expected many things, but certainly not that. After all, the Nikiforov family was famous, all three of them being firm and illustrious members of Starfleet. Admiral Nikiforov was a military genius, and Professor Nikiforova was one of the most renowned xenolinguists in the world. But Yuuri did not know more than that about them. Hell, he had no idea what Victor’s relationship with them was like, or if he got along with his parents at all.

He knew absolutely nothing about the man he was proud to call his friend.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Victor,” Yuuri said, touching his hand. “What… what happened?”

Victor swallowed thickly, looking down at his feet. “It’s always the same old story,” he murmured. “They can’t deal with the fact that their oh-so-perfect son is gay.”

Yuuri’s heart broke into a thousand pieces.

Although it was no longer illegal to be gay or to be in a homosexual relationship on earth, there were still people that did not approve of such a lifestyle. Open hatred towards the queer community had become rare, but it still existed. And sometimes, one could not even hope for support from one’s very own family. 

Fortunately, Yuuri had never experienced that. His parents had been nothing but supportive, and they had never cared that their son was not interested in girls. In fact, his mother kept suggesting the sons of her friends to him, and his older sister had repeatedly tried to set him up with her friends from high school.

But seeing what outright rejection by one’s family could do to a person shook Yuuri to the core.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, linking his fingers with Victor’s. “Is there… is there anything that I can do?”

To his surprise, Victor did not shy away from the touch. Instead, the Russian shook his head, rubbing his eyes with his free hand as his fingers instinctively intertwined with Yuuri’s. As if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“What could anyone ever do about that,” he murmured. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve decided that I’ve had enough of explaining myself over and over again. I don’t want to listen to my mother telling me about the daughters of her friends and how lovely we’d look together anymore. Or watch my father turn his head away from me in shame if I laugh in a ‘too unmanly manner’ in his eyes.”

His voice had become bitter, and Yuuri sensed that now all the things that Victor had been forced to swallow were finally coming to the surface. “All they see is  _ this _ , you know. The goddamn uniform. The title and the ship and the honours, although they know _ goddamn well _ that I’d trade all of this for just a little bit of peace and quiet!” 

Victor was shaking like a leaf, and Yuuri moved a little closer to him, placing a hand on his arm for reassurance. “I cannot say that I understand, because this never happened to me,” he murmured. “My parents… never cared that I was not interested in girls, and they never really cared much about my career choice. I mean, yeah, they were proud when I got into the Academy but they would have been just as happy if I’d chosen to become a figure skater or a baker or anything else.” Yes, he had to be grateful for his family. For their kindness and their never-ending patience and support. Not everyone had a family like this to care for them. “But I know what it feels like when people can’t look beyond certain things. I know that this is a very difficult situation and that it is upsetting. But you’re not alone in this, Victor.” His thumb brushed over Victor’s hand almost by its own. “You have your friends. You have the entire crew. You… you have all of us.”

Victor then looked at him in an almost questioning way, as if he had only just realised who he was with, and who had been talking all this time. “I know you are right, my Yuuri” he said then, his voice soft and quiet. “But knowing that even my own mother cannot accept me for who I am is just…” He trailed off, unable to find the right words for this sensation. But Yuuri understood what he meant.

“I’m not saying that getting over this shock will be easy,” Yuuri said softly, squeezing his hand. “But eventually, you will think of it less often. And always remember that you have an amazing group of friends who love you and care for you and who would do anything for you.”

Victor smiled a little at that, and Yuuri was sure that he was now thinking of Otabek Altin, Christophe Giacometti, and Commander Lee. But then he said something that Yuuri had not expected at all.

“And I have you, too,” Victor said softly. “You are the first person that never tried to dig around in my past right after meeting me.”

Yuuri had blushed deeply at that, but at the second comment, he blinked. “Why should I dig around in your past?”

Victor smiled sadly. “Be glad that you don’t know, Yuuri,” he said. “I don’t want to burden you with any of that as well. You are too precious to me.”

Yuuri blushed even more, and his mouth suddenly became very dry, making him unable to respond to the greatest of compliments that he had ever received.

Victor seemed to misinterpret his silence for embarrassment, for he sighed regretfully. “I shouldn’t have said that. Now I have just made things awkward between us and I really-”

Later, Yuuri would find himself worrying about this exact moment, and he would wonder  _ what on earth _ he had been thinking, only to come to no acceptable conclusion. Perhaps it was an action of his mind that had become tired of only dreaming, perhaps it was a reaction to the desire that he always felt in Victor’s presence. Or perhaps it was just the knowledge that there was no point in holding back, in pretending to feel something less strong and powerful than the pains of young love.

The moment Yuuri Katsuki pressed a kiss to Victor Nikiforov’s lips, the world seemed to stand still.

Only a second later, Yuuri realised what he had done and pulled away in shock.

“I’m s-sorry!” Yuuri blurted out and looked at Victor with wide eyes. “I didn’t mean to-”

But Victor had pulled him into another kiss, passionate and powerful and  _ hungry _ , refusing to let go of him a second time. Yuuri gasped in surprise, only to give in to Victor’s advances a moment later. Wrapping his arms around Victor’s neck he pulled him closer, lips carefully brushing and tasting another as his heart dared to burst out of sheer joy. Oh, he had been kissed before, but none of them had ever compared to this.

To Victor  _ fucking  _ Nikiforov.

After what seemed like an eternity, Victor pulled away. Yuuri was breathing heavily, looking at Victor with wide eyes as he found the older man to be smiling at him, with the most adorable blush that Yuuri had ever seen on his pale cheeks.

“So you do like me, Yuuri,” Victor said softly and took both of Yuuri’s hands into his, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I was not sure if I was misinterpreting things, so I never made a move.”

Yuuri turned a very dark red. “A-Am I that easy to read?”

Victor chuckled. “Oh, no, absolutely not,” he assured him and rested his forehead against Yuuri’s. “But this adorable blush of yours is very hard to miss.”

“S-So you… you want to…”

“If  _ you  _ want to,” Victor said softly. “But there are things that… that you should know about me before we continue with anything.”

“Things?”

“I was not joking when I was speaking of my past,” Victor said and pulled away a little, letting go of Yuuri’s hands. “I have sworn to myself to never, ever put this burden onto anyone else but me. Of course I know that I cannot prevent this to one-hundred percent but…”

Yuuri had taken Victor’s hand again, gliding closer to him on the ice once more until their faces were almost touching. “You don’t have to tell me a single thing if you don’t want that, Victor,” he said quietly. “Your past is yours. You may share it with me if you want, maybe now, or tomorrow, or in ten years or never. It is up to you. But I will always be willing to listen.”

There was genuine surprise on Victor’s face as Yuuri looked at him, but it disappeared again after a few seconds only. Instead, the young captain began to smile, and he reached out to cup Yuuri’s cheek.

“Would you like to date me then, Yuuri?” He asked softly. “The absolute and horrible mess that I am?”

Yuuri felt as if something had set his heart on fire, and the butterflies in his stomach seemed to soar to the Heavens as Victor touched him, asking him to love him.

“I would like that very much,” Yuuri whispered.

Victor gave him the most beautiful of smiles. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all week,” he said and then leant in for another kiss.


	7. A Stitch in Space is a Bitch in Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theangryuniverse here!   
> We've been working hard on this chapter, and omg, so much is happening! Victor and Yuuri are getting closer, Yuri and Otabek realize that they might be not as straight as they always thought, and the USS Agape... well, see for yourself!
> 
> Oh, and I just love Seung-Gil. He's my baby.

_**A Stitch in Space is a Bitch in Space** _

* * *

 

Yuuri couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so overjoyed.

It was not just the fact that Victor - yes, the actual Victor _fucking_ Nikiforov - had told him that he liked him more than just a little. It was not only the thrill of a new love that kept him floating as if he were on cloud nine, or the stolen kisses in the turbolift, or the loving, knowing glances that Victor threw at him each time their eyes met on the bridge.

For the first time in years, Yuuri felt actually happy, and not controlled by his anxiety anymore.

Of course it was still there, lurking in the back of his mind and telling him to question every single thing that happened around him. Sometimes, Yuuri felt tempted to give in. After all, there just had to be a catch to all of this. Good things never just dropped from the sky, especially not in his case. Good things usually happened to others. It was not that Yuuri had ever felt unfortunate, or pursued by misfortune. But his life had always been so ordinary that it almost hurt. And now, all of a sudden, the most illustrious member of Starfleet, the youngest captain in history, called himself Yuuri’s boyfriend.

For now, they would keep the fact that they were dating a secret. They were not ashamed of their feelings for each other, but Victor had suggested that keeping things private in the beginning would take away any kind of peer pressure. Yuuri had let out a massive sigh of relief at that. It was as if Victor could read his mind, as if he knew that he would not feel comfortable sharing the details of their so very new relationship with everyone else just yet. 

Little did he know that Victor had studied him extensively over the course of the previous weeks, and had taken note of the linguist’s shyness when it came to other people. But he was grateful for Victor’s insight into human nature, and promised him to be patient with him in return.

At that, Victor had smiled again.

Yuuri had only just gotten a glimpse into Victor’s soul, and he was sure that over the course of time, he would get to see even more. And when that time came, Yuuri would be determined not to betray his trust. He did not know much about Victor’s past. He knew what everyone else knew, but other than that, he was absolutely clueless. But by telling him about his struggles with his family, Victor had shown him that he trusted him with his past, and Yuuri felt honoured to be one of the chosen few.

They had not continued with their skating session that evening. Instead, they had switched the settings of the holodeck to something less icy, and had spent the rest of the evening talking about this and that. Every now and then, they had stolen kisses from the other, and each time their lips had touched, Yuuri had thought his heart would explode.

Victor had asked Yuuri to tell him everything about his home, and so, Yuuri had delivered. He told him about Hasetsu, the town he had grown up in, and about the onsen of his family. Victor hung onto his every word, asking about his mother, father, and sister, about his school years, and about his motivation to become a xenolinguist.

“I guess it started with that letter my sister received from her German penpal,” Yuuri had explained. “I was so jealous that she could read something that I couldn’t, so I stole her German dictionary and translated the letter word by word.”

Victor had laughed as a response, and Yuuri blushed as he had wrapped an arm around his middle and pulled him closer. “That’s what I call determination! What happened then?”

“My father caught me translating my sister’s correspondence and suggested that I should take classes with a professional teacher. And when I started high school I joined the language club and our teacher introduced us to linguistics. Syntax, semantics, pragmatics, phonetics…”

“Oh God, don’t remind me, I hated that at the Academy.”

“But it’s so interesting!”

“That’s what Seung-Gil kept saying as well. Sorry, do continue.”

“There’s not much more to say, really. My teacher told me about the linguistics programme at the Academy, and suggested that I should give it a try. So I downloaded the application form and went to take the exam in Tokyo and got in.”

“What score did you get, my Yuuri?” Victor asked curiously, sitting up a little.

At that, Yuuri had blushed deeply. “One-hundred and four,” he said meekly.

“Wow! Amazing!” Victor had exclaimed and kissed him soundly. “And the rest is history! So how many languages do you speak?”

Yuuri had swallowed thickly at that, not really used to speaking about his achievements to others. It had always felt like bragging to him.

Victor had sensed his uneasiness immediately. “Okay, how about that,” he began. “I list languages and you tell me if you speak them by saying yes or no.”

“Victor-”

“English.”

“Victor, we are speaking English now.”

“Russian.”

“No.”

“Japanese.”

“Victor.”

“German?” He grinned, pecking Yuuri’s cheek.

“Ja. Bitte lass das, du machst mich ganz nervös-”*

“Oh, that’s so cute! Although I have no idea what you’re saying. Spanish?"

“No.”

“French?”

“A little bit.” Another kiss.

“Chinese?”

“Yes.”

“Korean?”

“Yes.” A kiss to his forehead.

 “Donwar?”

 "You know very well that I wrote my dissertation in it.”

 “Rikani?”

 “Yes.”

This continued until Yuuri had finally managed to shove Victor away, but the captain only laughed and pulled Yuuri into his arms again. But this time, he had only held him, resting his chin on top of Yuuri’s head. “You’re damn smart, Dr. Katsuki.”

Yuuri had not said anything to that. He never told people that he had a Ph.D., not wanting to draw any attention to himself. But of course Victor would know, as he had surely read his file before take-off. But coming from Victor, it did not sound so bad.

And so, Yuuri had not protested.

Outside of the holodeck, however, they were merely colleagues.

It did not bother Yuuri that he could not hug, touch, or kiss Victor in public. He had been raised in Japan, after all, were public displays of affection were not typical. But for Victor, it seemed to be a quite frustrating experience. Each time he got to spend a minute or two alone with Yuuri - either in his study when Yuuri came to bring him messages from Starfleet or when they were in a turbolift together - he would press a gentle kiss to his lips, giggling like a schoolboy at Yuuri’s adorable blush that would always follow. And whenever he couldn’t kiss him, he would touch him and make it seem as if it hadn’t happened on purpose. But Yuuri knew him, and his heart began to flutter each time he felt Victor’s hand touching his.

Keeping their relationship a secret from Phichit turned out to be the most difficult part of it all. Phichit had realised quickly that his patient was hiding something from him, but since Victor’s mood had improved drastically, he wouldn’t ask too many questions. Nonetheless, Yuuri had a feeling that Phichit knew, although the Thai never made a definite remark. But he had stopped teasing Yuuri about Victor, as if he were giving his best friend the liberty to decide for himself when the time to tell him had come.

With Victor as his new boyfriend and Phichit as his best friend, Yuuri slowly began to feel at home on the USS Agape. He realised that he had been worried over things that did not matter at all anymore. No one on the ship treated him like a poor excuse of a scientist, but with respect for his profession instead. His work was interesting and challenging, and no one yelled at him for taking longer for a translation or for getting things wrong. When Commander Lee had pointed out a rather sloppy mistake in one of his translations, his superior had not shouted at him, but had assisted him in revising the entire section. Dr. Giacometti had not lectured him about his chubbiness, but had asked about his mental health whilst checking his blood levels instead. Jean-Jacques Leroy, their Chief Security Officer, had invited him for a game of cards a few times. Leo de la Iglesia, their Chief Science Officer, had come to him for a translation of his latest work, and they had gone to the mess hall for dinner together afterwards. Even Yuri Plisetsky acted rather friendly towards him and had talked to him for a while over a drink at the bar. One time, Otabek Altin had joined them for a while. And much to Yuuri’s surprise, the Head Engineer had exactly known who he was.

He did not need more than that at the moment. Of course, he had not joined the USS Agape in order to find a boyfriend. No, that had merely been a lucky coincidence. In fact, Yuuri was not even sure what had drawn him to Victor, or why Victor seemed to like him so much. But sometimes, it felt as if they were just what the other one needed. In Victor’s presence, Yuuri felt safe and calm, and space lost its fright. He could be open with him, and he felt appreciated.

And Victor?

What exactly did Victor see in him?

Yuuri was too shy to ask.

Their relationship was still young, and Yuuri was not sure if it would be a lasting one. But for now, it was nice to know that there was someone who saw something special in him.

The translation he was working on he turned out to be a surprisingly easy one. It was a piece of Donwar history, and the Academy had sent it to him for a final readthrough. Yuuri licked his lips, flipping through the digital pages of the document as suddenly, his comm badge crackled and the voice of Commander Lee reached him.

“ _Lieutenant Katsuki to the Briefing Room_.”

Yuuri frowned. He knew that Victor was there because of a hastily scheduled conference call with Starfleet Headquarters, and that Victor had been anything but happy to waste valuable hours in a meeting that would most likely include his own father. But why would they want to see him?

Yuuri pushed the button. “I am on my way, Commander,” he replied and saved his work before shutting down the programme and making his way from the bridge to the Briefing Room next door, bracing himself for whatever was waiting for him there.

It was a frightening sight.

Victor, Seung-Gil Lee and Jean-Jacques Leroy were sitting at the other end of the table, surrounded by sitting holograms of the ten leading Admirals. Yuuri only knew a few of them, namely the ones that had been present during his exams. There was Admiral Lilia Baranovskaya, who had watched his exam in Logic Theory. Admiral Feltsman, who had been present during his combat training several times. Only Admiral Nikiforov, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Although holograms of humans were surprisingly accurate these days, they caused a sense of unease in Yuuri each time he had to interact with them. He preferred video calls.

“Lieutenant Katsuki,” Victor said calmly and greeted him with a small nod. “Thank you for coming.” There was a strain in his voice that sent a cold shiver down Yuuri’s spine, and the xenolinguist immediately knew that something was wrong.

“Captain,” Yuuri said, clasping his hands on his back and straightening his shoulders as he realised that everyone, absolutely everyone, was looking at him. He briefly met the gaze of Seung-Gil, who was looking at him like an executioner, merely waiting to pass his final verdict. Jean-Jacques Leroy greeted Yuuri with a nod, seeming a little more sympathetic than the First Officer, but tense as well.

“Thank you for coming, Lieutenant,” Admiral Feltsman said. “Do you know why you are here?”

Yuuri shifted on his feet. “No, Admiral,” he admitted. “I do not know why I have been called to this meeting.” He glanced at Victor, but the captain was looking at Feltsman, who had begun to speak once more.

“It has come to our attention that parts of the correspondence between the USS Agape and Starfleet Headquarters have been transmitted on non-secure channels and frequencies. In particular, correspondence about the functionality of the warp core, including the latest reports of the Head Engineer and his suggestions of alterations.”

Yuuri felt as if he had just swallowed a very large chunk of ice.

“Do you have anything to say about this, Lieutenant?” Victor asked, his voice calm and reserved as he spoke, just like his facial expression. There was very little left of the man that Yuuri knew in private in this moment. Personal relationships had no place in this room. Not in this situation.

Yuuri swallowed thickly. “If the leaked information concerns the reports of last week, then I’d have to run a full diagnostics of the computer I am using-”

“We already did that, Lieutenant,” Seung-Gil interrupted him calmly. Despite knowing that Commander Lee was not as cold as he often seemed, his current ruthless demeanor sent shivers down Yuuri’s spine. “All settings are up to date. No bugs have been detected.”

“The computer is innocent, Lieutenant,” an Admiral to his left said. “The computer does not make mistakes.”

“I would not go that far, Admiral,” Victor said, never taking his eyes off Yuuri. “A computer can make mistakes.”

“But apparently, this computer has not,” Lilia Baranovskaya said firmly. “The reports that you have sent to Earth have been made available to the public. The newspapers have been writing about nothing else but the new warp core technology!” Yuuri almost jumped at her tone of voice, and he had to force himself not to start shaking like a leaf. He had always been unable to stay calm when people raised their voices in his presence. Fighting against the urge to run away, he took a deep breath. He could do this. He was a Lieutenant of Starfleet. He was not a coward.

“Lieutenant Katsuki has been a reliable student at the Academy,” an Admiral on the other end of the table said, and Yuuri recognised him as one of his former professors. “He has proven to be hardworking and precise. I am sure such a thing would never happen by accident. Not with him.”

“It does not change the fact that it has happened,” Admiral Feltsman said and cleared his throat. “We should be grateful that no greater details have been leaked. Lieutenant Katsuki, is there anything else you would like to say?”

“I…” Yuuri cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders as he forced himself to stay calm. No, he would not make a fool of himself in front of Victor, Commander Lee, and all the Admirals at once. “I must have used a public channel by accident. There must have been changes in our settings at this point. I would never mindlessly transmit messages or reports on a non-secure channel. But I take full responsibility, Captain.” He looked at Victor before he lowered his head respectfully, his ears burning in shame.

“I hope you do!” Admiral Baranovskaya replied harshly. “The publication of this correspondence as put Starfleet into great distress! The public relations office has been working night shifts to fix the damage to our reputation!”

“I firmly believe that Lieutenant Katsuki meant no harm,” Victor said calmly, tapping the surface of his desk with his finger tips impatiently. “He has proven to be a most reliable member of my crew, and I am sure that he regrets his carelessness. I therefore ask you not to take any disciplinary measures.”

Admiral Baranovskaya huffed, but remained silent.

Yuuri felt as if his worst nightmare had become reality. Perhaps he should have listened to his gut all along, perhaps he should not even have applied for Starfleet Academy back then, perhaps he should have stayed in Hasetsu and become a teacher, like his sister had suggested, yes, that would have been a sane and sensible option, and he would not have burdened himself with duties of such great significance...

“Commander Lee, do you agree with Captain Nikiforov?” another Admiral asked, pulling Yuuri out of his nervous train of thoughts. Seung-Gil Lee was an excellent commander, and Yuuri felt respected whenever he worked under his supervision. But there was something about the Korean that told Yuuri to never, ever underestimate the man. He remained an unpredictable mystery, polite and respectful, but also cold and almost heartless at the same time.

“I do,” Seung-Gil said. “Lieutenant Katsuki is an excellent xenolinguist and his work is of an outstandingly high standard. What has happened was nothing but a mistake, and it shall never happen again.”

“Lieutenant Commander Leroy?”

“I agree with the Captain and with Commander Lee,” JJ said in a warm voice. “Lieutenant Katsuki does not pose a risk to the security of this ship or the crew. I firmly believe he is the last person on board we should worry about”

Admiral Feltsman cleared his throat and clasped his hands. “I believe that this mission is far too important, and that Lieutenant Katsuki is far too valuable for the USS Agape to make this entire affair bigger than it is.” He nodded at Victor, who returned the nod briefly before looking at Yuuri again.

"Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said. “Please wait outside until we have come to a decision.”

“Yes, Captain.” Yuuri bowed his head lightly and turned around, leaving the Briefing Room through the door behind him. The moment it closed, Yuuri began to shake like a leaf, and he had to lean against the wall and take deep, even breaths in order to stay calm.

How could this have happened?!

Yuuri shook his head vigorously. He was a responsible lieutenant. _Every single day_ , he would check the computer and its settings. _Each time_ he transmitted a message, he would double-check the channels, making sure that the lines were secure. Sending messages on non-secure channels was a beginner’s mistake. A fool’s mistake.

A dangerous mistake.

If valuable information ended up in the wrong hands…

Just as he was about to hyperventilate, the door opened beside him and JJ came out, greeting him with a kind smile. “Everything’s okay, don’t worry,” he whispered and put his hand reassuringly on Yuuri’s arm as he guided him back inside. All the holograms were gone, except for the one of Admiral Feltsman.

“No need to be so frightened, Lieutenant,” Admiral Feltsman said as Yuuri came closer and stood to attention. “We have chosen not to take any disciplinary measures.”

Yuuri exhaled deeply, but lowered his head nonetheless. “I will still take full responsibility of-”

“That is noble of you, Lieutenant, but not necessary,” Seung-Gil said calmly from his seat next to Victor. “It was most likely a malfunction of the computer.”

Yuuri stared at him. “B-but you said that the tests-”

“We did not have the time to run any,” Seung-Gil explained, as if he were fooling Starfleet on a regular basis.

How many sides of Seung-Gil Lee had they yet to explore?

“We let the Admirals hear what they wanted to hear,” Admiral Feltsman explained patiently. “In their eyes, computers do not make mistakes unless humans are responsible for them. A thought of the 21st century, I believe. I am sorry that we had to put you through this, Lieutenant. Of course I will make sure that this will have no consequences for you personally or your career. Victor, make sure you fix your damn computer on that ship, so that your little linguist can do his work in peace.”

“Will do,” Victor replied. “Thank you for your help, Yakov.”

“That’s Admiral Feltsman to you, boy,” the man growled, shaking his head as his hologram disappeared.

Seung-Gil sighed and rose from his chair, adjusting his uniform. “The only possible explanation is that the computer malfunctioned,” he said. “I will run a full diagnostic. Katsuki checks the settings several times per day. He would have noticed any mistake on his side immediately. And besides, the computers display warnings each time a public transmission is made.”

“A malfunction, then,” Victor said and rose as well. “Thank you all. Especially to you, Katsuki. You have helped Admiral Feltsman to keep his face.”

“Back to work, then,” JJ said and patted Yuuri’s shoulder encouragingly as he walked past him and out of the room.

Seung-Gil glanced at his watch. “I shall begin with the diagnostic straight away,” he said and followed JJ. Yuuri turned around to join him, knowing he would only be able to sleep if he saw the proof of his innocence.

“Yuuri?”

Victor’s voice had changed once more, from the captain’s voice to the one that Yuuri knew so well and loved so much. He turned around, just as Victor had reached him and took his hand, not caring that the door behind Yuuri was still open, and people could walk by at any moment.

“I’m so sorry that I had to be like that,” Victor said softly, with genuine regret in his eyes. “But I had to-”

“You had to be the captain,” Yuuri replied. “I understand that.”

“I had no time to warn you, otherwise I would have let you in to our plan to-”

“It’s okay, Victor,” Yuuri assured him. “Just…” He took a deep breath before he continued. “Never look at me like that again. As if you were about to send me to burn at the stake.”

Victor’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh God, Yuuri, I had no idea that I-”

“You did what you had to do, Victor, don’t worry,” Yuuri said again. “You cannot make exceptions just because I happen to date you.”

Victor said nothing to that for a moment, and Yuuri was not sure whether that was a good sign or not. By now, he knew that a quiet Victor was usually an unhappy Victor, and he certainly did not want to be the reason for that. But then, Victor wrapped his arms around him and kissed the top of his head lovingly.

“I wish I could make exceptions based on my feelings,” he murmured. “What a tender world that would be.”

He let go of him again, far too early in Yuuri’s opinion, but the door behind them was still open and they could be glad that no one had spotted them already. “I have to take another few calls,” Victor said, his thumb brushing over Yuuri’s cheek briefly. “But I’d love to skate with you later, after your shift. If you don’t hate me already.”

“I don’t hate you, Victor,” Yuuri said and crossed his arms. “I’m a little annoyed that you used me like that, yes, but I get why. Just don’t make things personal.” He glanced at the clock. “My shift finishes at 0430. Let us meet at the bar and talk about this later, okay?”

“Okay,” Victor said. “Again, I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Yuuri said. And then, after making sure that no one was around, he pressed a quick kiss to Victor’s cheek before making his way back to the bridge.

….

“That’s an interesting look on your face,” Maya said.

Yuuri looked up. He was sitting at the bar, drinking a cup of tea as he waited for Victor to join him. They would go to the holodeck together and skate for a bit before dinner. But Victor was running late. And so, Yuuri had taken the opportunity to enjoy this unexpected moment of peace with a cup of Japanese green tea.

It never failed to calm him down for at least a bit.

“What look?” He asked Maya with a small frown on his face.

“The one you just had,” the woman replied, leaning forward as she folded her arms, framing her round chest perfectly. Yuuri looked away, but Maya didn’t seem to care. “That was the look of a man that does not know where to put his thoughts.”

Yuuri blushed. “How did you know?”

Maya shrugged. “I work at a bar, darling. I know people.” She looked down at his cup. “Is it good? I’ve never made green tea before.”

"It’s very good,” Yuuri assured her. He liked Maya. She was kind and funny, and, according to Victor, also incredibly smart, just like her brother. “It reminds me of my home.”

“I dated a Japanese guy once,” Maya said. “His name was Hirotaka. Tall and mysterious, with gorgeous eyes and wonderful hair. He always looked a little grumpy, and he had this… this look in his eyes that…” She sighed wistfully. “Well, he turned out to have a wife and kids in Sapporo. And in Kuala Lumpur. And in this tiny village called Schönheide in Austria.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah.” Maya sighed, shaking her curly head as a group of assistant scientists walked past the bar, greeting Maya with whistles.

“Hey, Maya! Lookin’ good today! Especially your two convincing arguments!” one of them called, casting his gaze across her chest. Maya grinned back through gritted teeth. Once they were out of sight, she rolled her eyes.

“Shagged him one time and he thinks he’s God’s gift to womankind.”

“Crewmen!”

Commander Seung-Gil Lee had entered the lounge through the door on the other side, just in time to hear what had been said. The men froze immediately at the sight of their superior. Seung-Gil glared at them with what could only be called a deadly stare, and even Yuuri swallowed nervously at his sight.

“If I hear such disrespectful banter ever again on this ship you will find yourself in a capsule back to Earth,” he said. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, Commander,” the crewmen said in unison and quickly made their way out of the lounge.

“I can fight my battles on my own, Commander,” Maya said, eyeing Seung-Gil with an almost challenging expression on her face.

Seung-Gil looked at her, not in the slightest impressed by her stare that he already knew from Otabek. Instead, he approached the bar and came to stand next to Yuuri, who promptly held his breath and stood from his seat.

“Stand comfortably, Lieutenant,” Seung-Gil said and clasped his hands behind his back. “I have merely come to inform you about the results of the diagnostics. There has been a malfunction in the system, caused by our computer engineers at our last station. A maintenance error, and most definitely not your fault.”

“Oh, _domo arigatō, kami-sama_ ,” Yuuri breathed and buried his face in his hands in relief.

Seung-Gil gave him one of his rare smiles. “I am very sorry that we had to put you through this, Lieutenant. Unfortunately, we did not have the time to warn you, otherwise I would have done so.”

Yuuri sighed in relief. “I know that, Commander, and I will make sure to double-check each channel before every transmission.”

“I know that you do that already, Katsuki,” Seung-Gil said calmly. “We did not lie in the Briefing Room when giving the headquarters our assessment of you. You are in fact a valued and talented member of this crew. Such mistakes would never happen on your watch.”

Yuuri could barely believe what he was hearing. Such praise coming from Commander Seung-Gil Lee, who was famous for his cold and almost deadly stare as well as his ruthless demeanor when facing the enemy, was very, very rare.

“T-thank you, Commander,” Yuuri stuttered, his ears burning in embarrassment.

“The captain is very sorry as well,” Seung-Gil continued. “But you do know that already, don’t you?”

Before Yuuri could say anything else, the commander had inclined his head politely at him and Maya, and made his way out of the lounge once more.

Yuuri turned his head back to Maya, but she was still looking towards the exit through which the Commander had just left.

“I know that he’s a cold-hearted arse sometimes,” she said and pushed a fresh cup of tea towards Yuuri, who accepted it gladly. “But I have to admit that he’s hot. The girls from the sickbay talk about nothing else but his excellent butt.”

Yuuri choked on his tea, coughing heavily as he tried not to think of the ways the nurses spoke about his superior. Then, a large hand gently patted his back, and he immediately knew it was Victor.

“Now you’ve made him blush, Maya,” Victor chuckled as Yuuri gasped for air. “Sorry it took so long. The Admirals wanted a full report on our mission so far. They’re just glad we haven’t blown up yet.”

“Don’t tell Otabek, or he’ll freak out,” Maya warned him. “Drink?”

“No thanks,” Victor replied. “Katsuki and I are planning to work out together on the holodeck. Did you know that he’s an exceptional figure skater?”

“Really?” Maya asked in surprise. “That’s impressive!”

“Right?” Victor agreed, patiently waiting until Yuuri had his breath under control once more before saying: “He is the best I’ve ever seen.”

Yuuri blushed. “Now that’s not true-”

“Learn to take a compliment, darling,” Maya said softly and patted his arm. “Now off you go. I need to wipe down all surfaces before tonight. And bring my stupid brother something to eat.”

“Then we shall leave you alone,” Victor said and Yuuri slipped from his seat.

“Thank you for the tea, Maya,” he said. “And your kind words.”

“Always,” Maya replied and threw a knowing glance at Victor as Yuuri picked up his bag with the skates.

They really couldn’t fool anyone.

* * *

Yuri had thought that things literally couldn’t get more awkward between him and Otabek, but that was not the case. No, it only got worse. And worse. And worse.

A week had passed, and every time that he saw Otabek, all he saw was the man’s tiny smirk, just the upturn of lips when he had pulled the communicator from his back pocket. Slowly. Intenitally. _Deliberately_.

Yuri was insane, he was absolutely, fucking insane. He was imagining things, thinking that they were there when they weren’t, but he couldn’t help it. He remembered the way that their hips were pressed together, legs a tangled mess and how Otabek had lifted his hand.

Despite the callouses it hadn’t felt bad, swiping across his cheek to smooth his hair out of his way.

Oh no, Yuri was definitely in a fucking way, reduced to a pining teenager who couldn’t keep a firm grip on his hormones. Seriously, he hadn’t thought this way about someone since Yulia Ivanova, and that was because there was this _thing_ that she could do with her tongue and--

Why couldn’t Otabek have just pushed him off? Because now he was wishing that it was _Otabek_ that would do things with his tongue instead, and Yuri groaned in frustration, swiveling around in his chair. These were things that he should definitely not be thinking about in public.

Maya dropped a cup of coffee in front of him before he could even order it, and he already _knew_ that it was laced with something extra, just by the look on her face.

“Seriously, Yuri,” she said with a gentle smile. “You gotta figure it out.”

“I gotta get over it,” he moaned, pushing the coffee back. “Get me a clean one, I’m about to go on shift.”

At that, Maya raised an eyebrow. “Turning down the booze? One would think you _want_ to remember.”

Of course he did--

 _Not_. Of course he didn’t. Otabek was nothing but a distraction, and distractions were annoying, and made things difficult, and--

That was definitely Otabek’s hand on the counter-- he would recognize it anywhere, with those tiny little scars and calluses. Yuri swallowed as he sat in the chair next to him.

Maya blinked, holding a clean cup and a fresh pot of coffee. And then she blinked again, not sure that she was actually seeing her brother sitting there. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but am I seeing my brother?” But Otabek just leaned back in the chair casually. “You’ve _voluntarily_ left your hovel?”

“The engine isn’t a _hovel_ ,” he immediately snapped, but then stopped, taking a deep breath. “I heard Yuri was up here, so I stopped by.”

Maya raised her eyebrows and Yuri turned to him. “Why the fuck would you come up here for me?”

“I didn’t come _for_ you,” Otabek said. “But you aren’t answering your communicator-- is it muted?”

Yes, yes it was. Even if it was a violation to do so, he had just wanted a day of _no one bothering him and--_

Well, sometimes Otabek and he talked late at night, the two of them too lazy to leave their rooms for actual company. And as of late, that did more harm, than it did good. He had found it hard to go to bed, when sexually frustrated and craving things and--

“Not intentionally,” Yuri finally said, pushing _that_ thought straight into space, but he knew that the both of them could read him like an open book. He had never been a good liar. “What do you want anyway?”

Maya was already smirking, pouring them both a cup of coffee-- this time liquor free. Otabek wrapped his hands around the mug, warming them. “The temporary fix that I made has been holding pretty well, but we’re going to need to replace the engine in full.”

At that, Maya nearly dropped the coffee pot, gaping at him.

“Shouldn’t that be something that you tell the old man, not me?” Yuri asked, taking a sip from his own cup.

“I _did_ ,” Otabek said. “But it’ll be awhile before we reach a port that we can dock at, while we wait for those replacements. In the meantime, the engines need constant monitoring, and--”

“You have a damn intern--” Yuri interrupted.

“ _It’s too much work_ , for myself and Kenjirou,” Otabek finished, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit.

Maya stood there, glancing between the two of them, lips twisted in amusement, and God above, Yuri wished he could tell her to shove it. But he couldn’t, not with Otabek right there. Because Otabek wasn’t aware of his crisis, or the fact that he had complained to his sister about it, or that literally every moment that he spent with him was driven entirely by his hormones and--

Yuri cleared his throat. “I’m a pilot, not an engineer,” he stated, as if it wasn’t fucking obvious.

“You’re the one that noticed the issue with the engine last time,” Otabek said matter-of-factly. “Do you know how many times that thing was looked over, before Starfleet declared the ship ready to depart? Do you know how many diagnostics were done, how many tests were held, and not a single person noticed?” Otabek shook his head, his lips quirking into a smile, sipping at his cup. “No, it was the _pilot_ who noticed and only because he was bored enough to pay attention.”

Yuri felt himself turn red from his forehead, to his collarbone at the praise.

“Besides, I prefer your company over Kenjirou’s.” Otabek finished with.

If it had been possible, Yuri would have looked like a damn tomato. He spared a glance at Maya, who only smiled back sweetly, before covertly nodding her head towards her brother. Otabek didn’t seem to notice, too busy paying attention to his mug as he fiddled with his coffee. Maya gestured to him more aggressively, and Yuri reached out to smack her.

She pulled away just in time to leave him hanging awkwardly over the counter.

Which of course, was the exact moment that Otabek finally chose to look up, eyes sweeping over Yuri from his head, to his butt, before he stopped and--

Yuri immediately stood straight, knowing that there was literally no _possible way in space_ , that Otabek had just been staring at his ass. Yuri looked back to Maya, only to find that she had slipped away in his distraction, pouring coffee into the mug of another crewman. Fucking Maya, absolutely _useless_ at the most important of times.

Yuri turned around, leaning against the counter, trying to play it cool.

“I would love to help you, but I’m needed on the bridge--”

“Victor’s already put in a temporary reassignment to engineering,” Otabek interrupted.

The old man did _what_ now? But instead the words that came out were, “ _You requested a transfer_?”

Otabek shrugged, leaning back in his chair again. “I explained the situation, but he made the choice.” And then he paused. “Considering all the time that you spend down there, I would have thought you wouldn’t mind.”

Weeks ago, he would have _welcomed_ it. Weeks ago, he would have literally _dreamt_ about it. But bow, dread pooled in his stomach. Or was it lower than that, practically burning with need? _God above, he was a damn mess. One hot mess._

“Anyway, that’s the entire reason that I came up here to find you. Report to engineering, instead of the bridge.” Otabek drained the rest of his coffee, before standing and leaving him without another word.

Yuri watched him leave, his eyes trained firmly on the back of Otabek’s head, instead of his ass.

“So much for avoiding him with a _wide berth_ ,” Maya teased, having suddenly reappeared. They were the words he had said to her, his final decision in regards to the problem that was Otabek.

“Maybe if I talk to Victor--”

“And say what? Hey Captain, I get the whole deal with the engine crapping out on us, but could you do me a favor and re-assign me to the bridge? I’m afraid that I’ll _too distracted by Otabek’s ass_ to be of any use.” Maya snorted at that, before slipping him another mug of coffee. “I know you said no liquor, but I think you’ll definitely need it now.”

Instead, Yuri dragged a hand down his tired face and reached for the mug.

This was going to be a very long day. Week. Month. However long this fucking mess would take to sort itself out.

…..

Kenjirou wasn’t in Engineering when Yuri got there, because _of course he’s not_.

And despite only having been down for literally twenty whole minutes, Otabek already had a gigantic grease stain across the front of his pale gray t-shirt. Seriously, it was like the man did it on purpose.

The moment Yuri walked in, Otabek looked up at him. And as he moved to say something, Yuri beat him to it with, “Computer. Initiate Program _Leave Me The Fuck Alone, track twelve_.” The room filled with the electronic sounds of _ELO’s Turn to Stone_.

Otabek ran a hand through his hair and moved to pause entirely in his work, but as he opened his mouth again, Yuri requested the computer to turn up the music. At the sound of the song reaching a blaring volume, Otabek frowned, crawling up from the floor properly.

Yuri went to the console that he usually sat at and plopped down, kicking his feet onto the controls.

He saw Otabek mouth words to the computer, unable to hear what he said, and the music stopped immediately.

Yuri asked the computer to start it up again, which Otabek immediately shut down once more. The pilot rolled his eyes, despite the fact that he was being the petty child here. “What, is music not allowed anymore, _Commander?_ ”

Yeah, _he hadn’t forgotten about that slipping out_ , even if he hadn’t mentioned it since.

Otabek immediately scowled before stalking over, dropping his wrench in a tool box. “Don’t call me that,” he snapped. Yuri blinked, genuinely surprised at his outburst, and Otabek sighed. “I just don’t like the title or rank.”

“It’s not like you come by it by _accident_ ,” Yuri said coolly. “You don’t become a Commander without intending to.”

“That’s a story for another day,” Otabek said, this time calmer. “What I want to know is what’s up with you?”

“Nothing is _up with me_ ,” Yuri said, immediately defensive. Otabek only raised an eyebrow and leaned against the council with his arms crossed across his chest. Yuri watched his muscles for just a moment, before swallowing thickly and looking away. He distracted himself by sitting up straight and pulling open the diagnostics program.

“Really, nothing is wrong--”

“It’s like you’re _avoiding_ me,” Otabek finally said.

Yuri paused, unsure how to respond. He had _thought_ he’d been pretty covert about it, but apparently not.

 _Wide Berth_ , he had told Maya. Not outrightly ignoring him, but keeping at a distance. Spending less of his free time in Engineering with Otabek, and letting a few of those late-night calls ring until he gave up.

“I’ve just been busy with my shifts,” Yuri, but he knew that it was a paper-thin and flimsy excuse from the get-go. And so did Otabek, he could tell by his expression. But the engineer didn’t push it, instead letting the subject drop.

“I honestly didn’t mean for you to get busier, being assigned down here,” Otabek finally answered with. “While it is true that it’s too much work for just me and Kenjirou, I had no intention on roping you into this.”

“It’s okay,” Yuri said truthfully. “I’m not really angry, it’s just been… a long time since I’ve actually been a _pilot_ , not just some punk navigator.” Otabek’s lips twisted into a slight smile at that, causing Yuri to regard him again. He was leaning closer to him than before, and had smudged something across his forehead. “But really a _Commander?_ ”

Immediately the smile slid off of Otabek’s face. “If you’re _really_ curious, see if you can pry it out of Commander Lee. Other than that, Victor only uses it when he’s angry.”

“Like when you call him _Captain_.”

“Exactly.”

Yuri was looking at the smudge again, a dark line across his brow and down his cheek, just dusting the top of his cheek. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it was too quiet, and Yuri was too distracted by the man and his good looks a dishevelled appearance.  “You have a--” he started, but on impulse, he paused and lifted his hand to wipe it off.

Otabek waited for him to wipe it away, and Yuri managed to get most of it, leaving behind just a tiny shadow of dirt. “Just a smudge. You know, it’s like you _plan_ to get dirty down here, like it’s some sort of habit,” he rambled. “Every fucking time I see you, you’re just covered head-to-toe in grease--”

“Yuri--” Otabek started, and Yuri stopped dead, swallowing thickly. Otabek grabbed Yuri’s wrist lightly, but didn’t do anything else, just held it there. And God, these were mixed signals, these were _definitely_ mixed signals, and Otabek was giving him this stupidly intense look and--

The console set off an alert, beeping angrily and breaking the spell. Otabek didn’t immediately let him go though, despite the angry sound. “Yuri--” he said again.

“We probably should look at that,” Yuri said at the same time.

But Otabek did no such thing, opting to ignore the alarm entirely. Yuri risked a glance around his shoulder, pretty fucking sure that it can’t be anything _good_. Things just didn’t go off for no reason, and considering the nature of the damned engine, he wouldn’t ignore it in a thousand years.

But Otabek was still holding onto his wrist, refusing to let go, and there was this _look_ on his face, and Yuri had half a mind that he was imagining things to get out of _whatever this was_. Yuri swallowed his words as Otabek moved, leaning over slightly.uri wasn’t stupid, knowing exactly where the man was headed, and he responded in kind. Otabek’s free hand rose to brush his hair behind his ear and--

“ _Victor to Otabek,”_ Otabek’s Communicator chirped, “ _We’re getting some strange readings from Main Engineering. Is everything alright?”_

If looks could kill, Otabek’s face would have burned a hole right into the damn hull. And Yuri was pissed too, even if he was literally just in the heat of the moment, and he would probably _really_ regret all of this later.

“Otabek,” Yuri said, but the engineer ignored him, his hand still on his cheek, rubbing at the skin there softly. And he made no movement to answer the comm. “Otabek,” Yuri said, his voice cracking the tiniest bit. “Maybe you should--”

“I’m doing exactly what I should be doing,” Otabek said quietly, before dipping down again.

Only for the comm to go off once more. “ _Otabek?”_

The Engineer let out a growl in frustration, before dropping his forehead onto Yuri’s shoulder. He reached up, tapping the comm badge on Yuri’s uniform, and said, “Captain, this isn’t a good time.”

“ _It seems that it’s never a good time for you,”_ Victor replied dryly. There was a pause and then, _“Is that Yuri’s Comm badge? What on Earth is happening down there?_ ”

Yuri turned bright red, even though the Captain probably meant nothing by it. Otabek closed his eyes and took a deep breath before replying with, “Victor I swear to God, you have _the worst fucking timing_.”

Victor didn’t reply immediately, and Yuri hoped to high heaven that he wasn’t talking publicly on the bridge. Finally, he said, “ _I would suggest making yourself decent then--_ ”

“ _We weren’t doing anything_ \--” Yuri snapped loudly, his heart pounding in his ears.

 _“--Because I’ve sent Crewman Minami down there to take a look. I don’t like whatever it is that I’m seeing, so figure it out, okay?_ ”

Otabek muted the comm badge and then finally pulled away, leaving Yuri red-faced and sputtering in agitation. “What on earth was that,” he finally snapped.

Otabek had turned to the console and pressed a button to cut off the alert. His eyes scanned the screen as he replied, “That was our Captain with his _meticulous_  timing.”

"That’s not what I meant, and you fucking know it,” Yuri snapped, crossing his arms across his chest. This probably wasn’t the best time to mention it, but Yuri was tired of feeling like a loose cannon. Ignoring it was easy, before he found out that Otabek wanting to _fucking kiss him_.

This absolutely wasn’t part of the plan.

Otabek paused, thinking about his words as he scanned the diagnostic. And then his eyes narrowed. “This isn’t good.”

“Oh no,” Yuri said, sitting up straight. “You can’t just choose to ignore me.”

“No--” Otabek started, but then cut short as he leaned over and input some commands on the keyboard. “I’m not ignoring you, but _this isn’t good_. Victor was right to interrupt, now that I’ve seen this.”

Otabek wasn’t one to lose his cool, but Yuri detected a small bit of panic in his voice, and he sobered up. He went to his side, reading the output on the screen. “What’s happening?”

“I’m not sure what the cause is, but the engine cores are behaving strangely.”

“What do you mean _strange_?”

Otabek chose to ignore his snarky tone, but Yuri didn’t miss the tightening of his jaw in response. “I’ll have to run more tests, but they’re just-- You know what, Kenjirou is on his way down here. I think I can come up with a temporary containment measure--”

“ _Containment? Are you saying there’s something wrong with the singularities_?” Because if there was anywhere that Yuri didn’t want to be, it was on a ship with _two black holes_ that weren’t working correctly. Even if Otabek was a convincing argument.

“Get up to the bridge,” Otabek finally said, pulling away from the comm panel. Yuri watched as he grabbed his tool belt and hitched it low across his hips. “We might need you at the helm, just in case.”

“In case of _what_.”

Otabek looked at him seriously. “Remember when I said that there were _always_ problems? Well, here it is. Get up there, and tell Victor that we’re monitoring it.”

Yuri forgot about it all-- Otabek’s intense gaze, the near kiss, his agitation about Victor interrupting them-- his brain screeched to a halt at that thought. Of course Yuri had _wanted_ to kiss the stupid man, who wouldn’t have? But that wasn’t the point. Otabek had already left him there, climbing up the side of the contraption and practically straddling the engine core itself.

This was super not the time to be thinking about shit like that. Even so, Yuri swallowed thickly before turning to leave.

He hoped that Otabek had a plan that would fucking work.

.....

Victor had given Yuri quite the side-eye when he found his way onto the bridge, but thankfully didn’t press any further. Despite being told that _Otabek was working on it_ , the entire Bridge seemed to be on high alert.

And then Otabek had paged the Captain, telling him that he has worked some sort of miracle, and everything was under control for the time being. Victor had let out a sigh of relief, and Yuri had beamed at the thought. Otabek was callous and a little bit rough around the edges, but the man was a fucking genius at the end-all of things.

Victor eventually excused himself for the night, as did other bridges officers once their shifts ended.

“It’s late Plisetsky,” Commander Lee said, leaning against Yuri’s piloting console. He didn’t think that he had ever seen the man so _informal_ while on duty. “We’ve got a skeleton crew going, why don’t you get some sleep?”

And boy, did he want to. After such an… eventful day, he was beat and wanted nothing more than to curl into the warmth of his bed, and never wake up again. But he had a nagging feeling, something deep in the back of his mind. Long ago, he’d learned to listen to those little feelings.

“Otabek said that I should stay on the bridge, you know… just in case.”

Yeah, it sounded plausible. Seung-Gil regarded him for a moment and then nodded, before dismissing the rest of the bridge. He went and sat in the Captain’s chair, and Yuri went back to monitoring things.

“I know that you haven’t worked an overnight shift here,” Seung-Gil said, “but it’s rather boring.”

"I’ve worked _plenty_ of late-nights,” Yuri immediately snapped, but then paused, taking a deep breath. He’d promised to be at least nice, and Seung-Gil hadn’t said anything rude. “What I mean to say is that, most ships put me on shifts where people didn’t have to bother with me.”

Seung-Gil was quiet for a long moment, before he said, “There are many types of people, Plisetsky, but the worst of us are the ones who don’t have trust.”

The Commander wasn’t necessarily one for compliments, but Yuri couldn’t help the way that his lips twisted into a small smile. “It’s not so bad here,” he said. “That’s why I don’t mind staying and helping out.” And then he paused. “I can’t promise that I won’t complain though.”

“I never asked you to _change_ yourself, Ensign,” was the Commander’s reply.

It was going to be a long night, but for the first time in a long time, Yuri didn’t think it’d be such a terrible one.

* * *

“You have to be more careful with your ankles, Victor. Like this.”

Yuuri skated away from him to pick up speed, then performed a perfect salchow and landed smoothly on the blades, his arms spread out like wings. “If you don’t pay attention to your ankles you might slip and break them, and believe me, that doesn’t feel nice.”

Victor looked at him in awe as if Yuuri had just presented to him the one formula to explain the beauty of the entire universe. “You are so goddamn talented, Yuuri. I doubt that you ever broke your ankle.”

“I did, actually,” Yuuri said and scratched the back of his head as he skated back towards Victor, their hands instinctively reaching for each other. “Both of them at once. Yuuko had to carry me off the ice.”

“That sounds terrible,” Victor said and linked his fingers with Yuuri’s. He was glad that nothing had changed between them, despite the events in the Briefing Room. Victor had been terrified of Yuuri’s reaction, but he had worried over nothing. Yuuri had merely asked him to warn him the next time he did such a thing, and then, he had told him to put on his skates.

Yuuri was the most forgiving boyfriend in the whole galaxy, and Victor could hardly believe his luck.

“It definitely hurt, yes,” Yuuri agreed. “But my mother drove me to the hospital and they fixed my ankles within an hour. I still get chills when I think of that funny feeling of bones growing back together.”

A cold shiver ran down Victor’s spine as he remembered something very similar. A sharp pain, flashing through his entire body, nerve endings reconnecting and forming new paths.

A very painful procedure that one would never wish for one’s enemy.

“But now they’re all good,” Yuuri added, wiggling his left ankle. His voice pulled Victor back to reality, and he was glad that Yuuri had apparently not noticed anything odd about him. He smiled and leant forward, kissing Yuuri’s cheek.

“It would be a shame if you couldn’t skate,” he whispered into his ear. “Because then I would have never gotten to see you dance on the blades like a fairy.”

The blush that spread across Yuuri’s cheeks at that was one of the many things that Victor loved about him. And oh, there was no greater joy than making Yuuri Katsuki blush. Victor laughed and reached for his other hand as well, gliding closer to him until their foreheads almost touched.

“What now, Lieutenant?” Victor asked softly. “We’ve been skating for almost two hours and I can hear your stomach grumble.”

“You can’t,” Yuuri protested nervously, but Victor pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“I have an idea,” he said. “We could have our dinner in private. In my room. Or in yours, I don’t care. And we could spend the evening together watching a film or playing a game or something like that. I don’t want this evening to end already, my Yuuri.”

For weeks, Victor had been contemplating how to propose this idea to Yuuri without scaring him away or giving the wrong impression. But inviting Yuuri to his private quarter was a big step in their relationship. What had seemed inappropriate or difficult while they had only been friends could now be seen in a different light. There was nothing wrong about inviting Yuuri to his room now, was there?

Before his anxiety could take over him, he felt Yuuri giving his hands a gentle squeeze, and the other man smiled at him. “I’d like that,” he said and touched Victor’s arm gently. “I’m not really in the mood for other people’s company either.”

“Perfect,” Victor smiled and pecked Yuuri’s cheek before pulling him along to get off the ice.

Leaving the holodeck together, they made their way down the hallway to the turbolift that would take them up to the second deck where Victor’s room was located. Yuuri was only a Lieutenant and therefore had his room on the fourth deck, right next to Phichit’s. Thanks to the proximity of their quarters, the two often spent the evening together, either watching a film or playing one of the games that Phichit had brought with him.

But tonight, Victor would be the lucky one. Every few steps they threw glances over their shoulders to check if anyone was following them, but they were alone. Most officers were still at work, or getting ready for dinner.

Holding Yuuri’s hand firmly in his, Victor entered the turbolift and told the computer where to take them. The moment the doors closed behind them, both Yuuri and Victor burst into a fit of giggles and leant against the other. “Oh my,” Victor chuckled and nuzzled Yuuri’s hair. “I feel like a schoolboy again, sneaking his first love into his room.”

“So that’s what you did as a teenager,” Yuuri laughed and brushed his hand over Victor’s uniform, touching the badge he wore on his chest at all times. “Maybe you should take this off.”

“Huh? Take off what? Do you mean my-” Victor pulled away slightly, a faint blush on his cheeks as he looked down to where Yuuri was touching him. “Oh! You mean the comm badge! Why should I take it off?”

“What if you accidentally touch it while we’re together and someone hears us?” Yuuri asked. “I mean…” Yuuri blushed again, and Victor had to force himself not to pull him into his arms and kiss his insecurity away. “Since we’re… since we’re keeping things private for now. I mean I’d be fine if you wanted to make it public or tell someone, it’s not that I’m worried about their reactions, but I just thought that perhaps this would be better for you-”

“Yuuri, my darling,” Victor interrupted him calmly, reaching up to cup his cheeks in an attempt to stop him from rambling. That was something Yuuri did whenever he was nervous, and that was the last thing that Victor wanted. Especially not when they were together. No, Yuuri deserved nothing but pure joy and happiness, and not a single dark shadow of doubt was supposed to come near him. “If you want to tell people about us then that is absolutely fine by me. I was only thinking that keeping this private would make it easier for us to get to know each other better without any pressure. But please don’t think you have to do this for me, okay?”

Yuuri looked up at him with the big brown eyes that Victor admired so much. They were always so full of warmth, so full of optimism whenever they were together, but already the tiniest spark of doubt could unsettle Yuuri, and that worried Victor very much. Could Yuuri not see that there was absolutely no reason to worry about them?

“I wasn’t sure what people would say about you because you’re, well, the captain,” Yuuri admitted. “I mean, I don’t know if there are any rules against crewmate fraternization, because if there are, they’d bring you into much greater trouble than me.”

Victor laughed softly and kissed his forehead. “If that it what you are worried about, then rest assured that there’s no such thing in Starfleet. And besides…” He wrapped an arm around Yuuri’s waist and pulled him closer. “Even if there was such a rule, I’d happily break it.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened. “Y-you would?”

“Of course, because my Yuuri is so worth it!” Victor grinned and kissed him soundly. “Even if there were a thousand rules against it, I’d proudly show you off.”

“Victor!” Yuuri gasped and blushed all over, but Victor only laughed and covered his face in little kisses. “Victor, the lift!”

But Victor pulled away just in time before the doors of the turbolift opened again, and after looking up and down the hallway, they hurried towards the door on the other end that led to Victor’s private quarters.

“Just one thing,” Victor warned with a chuckle before touching the scanner next to the door. “I didn’t have the time to clean up. It might be a little messy.” He put his hand on the scanner, waiting for the computer to confirm his identity.

“Then you should see my room,” Yuuri replied dryly.

Victor raised an eyebrow. “Is that an invitation?” He teased, but before Yuuri could reply, the computer chirped: “Welcome home, Captain Nikiforov.”

The door opened, and Victor pulled Yuuri inside, introducing him to his private realm.

It was not much bigger than the rooms of the other crew members, consisting of a living room, a bedroom, and a small bathroom. Although the design of the rooms was anything but ugly - in fact, it had won several design awards - Victor had spared neither trouble nor expense to turn his quarter into a home away from home. And in his case, that meant that every single surface, every shelf and every table, was covered in framed photographs. A large stuffed animal resembling a poodle lay on the sofa in the middle of the room, as if Victor had been sleeping on it. Pink, white, and blue Orchids lined the window sills, glowing in the most beautiful colours as Victor turned on the evening lights, bathing the room in a warm, golden colour.

“It’s a little messy,” Victor said apologetically and moved to pick up a few pieces of laundry from the floor by the sofa.

“It’s beautiful,” Yuuri replied and stepped into the room, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his sleeve as he looked around. He seemed like a child seeing shooting stars for the first time, and Victor couldn’t help but look at him in awe. Was there a purer creature in the universe than his Yuuri? “It’s really nice, Victor. It feels so much like… like you.”

Now it was Victor’s turn to blush, and he quickly hid his face behind a pile of laundry, carrying it to the bathroom to get rid of it there. If there was one thing he didn’t like about himself, it was the way his whole face would turn red and make him look like a ripe tomato. His father had always made fun of it, calling him unmanly for blushing like a little girl.

Yuuri had never even once mocked his appearance. Neither his blush nor his silver hair or anything else. Yuuri was kind, and had the greatest heart that Victor had ever seen.

He went back to the living room, finding Yuuri standing with his back to the window, looking at the photographs on the small table next to the couch. “You used to have long hair?” Yuuri asked curiously, picking up one of the photos to take a closer look.

“Yes,” Victor said, scratching the back of his head. “When I was younger. I was, uh…” He glanced at the picture that showed a younger version of himself with a puppy Makkachin. “I was seventeen at that time.”

“Why did you cut it?” Yuuri asked, putting the picture down again. “You looked great.”

“Oh, I just thought it was time for a change,” Victor explained with a small laugh, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes - and Yuuri did notice. The Japanese raised an eyebrow questioningly, and Victor gave in. “Well, my… my father insisted on it. Otherwise he would not have paid the fees for the Academy.”

“I see,” Yuuri said softly, and Victor was glad that he apparently decided not to enquire any further. Instead, Yuuri reached for the next picture, laughing as he turned it around to show it to Victor. “Is that Commander Lee?”

Victor laughed as he saw the picture. It was one of his favourites, showing him with Seung-Gil and Christophe outside the Academy Library, Makkachin sitting on his lap, all of them smiling into the camera while Seung-Gil looked as if someone had just delivered bad news.

“We went to the Academy together,” Victor explained. “We used to share a room for a year, even. Poor Seung-Gil. I’m sure he hated every second of it. I was one nightmare of a room mate, you know, but for some reason I still don’t understand, we became friends. Best friends, even.”

“That’s nice,” Yuuri said and put the picture down again. “I got to share a room with Phichit in my first year. We were both on our own and not sure about the whole thing, but I believe if I hadn’t met Phichit I wouldn’t have found any friends at all. He’s…” Yuuri trailed off, searching for the right word. “More sociable than I am. That’s why psychology was the perfect choice for him. If it weren’t for him, I would have never left my room. I’m… shy, as he would put it. I don’t really feel comfortable around people I don’t know.”

“And why is that?” Victor asked, instinctively reaching for Yuuri’s hand and intertwining their fingers. He had noticed from the very beginning that Yuuri was a meek and shy person that preferred not to talk too much about himself. But sometimes, there were moments in which Yuuri would open up to him, and Victor would hang onto his every word, determined to know more about him, determined to understand him and the unique ways that made him the person that he was. “I cannot imagine a person more lovable than you.”

Yuuri blushed and cleared his throat. “I… I don’t know, Victor. I guess… I guess that’s just me. I’m not very confident and when I was a child others often made fun of me, calling me… ah, it doesn’t matter.” He withdrew his hand from Victor’s, but the Russian reached for it again, gently wrapping his slender fingers around Yuuri’s wrist.

“I’m familiar with the effects of name-calling, Yuuri,” Victor said, his thumb brushing over the back of Yuuri’s hand. “I’ve had my fair share of it when I was younger. Whatever it was that they called you, don’t let that hold you back from making friends. That is what I learnt, at least.”

Most of the time, Victor didn’t think of the things that he had been called in the past. Thanks to the support of his friends, he had managed to leave that part of his past behind. Every now and then, they would creep back into his mind, and make him question if it had all been worth it. But Victor was not a teenager anymore, and had seen more of good and evil than a human being ever should. In the light of the things he had only recently survived, the torments of his youth seemed fairly irrelevant.

“I know what you mean,” Yuuri said, reaching for Victor’s free hand and intertwining their fingers. It was an almost instinctive reaction, as if they were meant to hold onto each other and never let go. As if Victor was his anchor, and Yuuri was his. “That’s what Phichit once told me. But I guess you can’t jump over your own shadow so easily.”

Victor frowned. “What?”

Yuuri blinked. “Huh? Oh, is that not a proverb in English?” He asked in confusion. “It is one in German. It means that it’s hard to change who you are, deep down. I thought it was the same in English.”

“In Russian, we say Выше своей головы не прыгнешь,” Victor said. “It means that above your head you cannot jump. I get the idea.”

Yuuri chuckled. “Yes, I think that’s quite accurate as well. I like it when you speak Russian, by the way,” he said, blushing even more as he added: “It’s very charming.”

Victor grinned and pulled Yuuri closer, their foreheads almost touching. “I can teach you some, if you like, мой милашка,” he said in a low voice.

“What does that mean?” Yuuri breathed, and Victor’s gaze dropped to his lover’s oh-so-kissable lips.

“It means _my darling_ ,” Victor whispered and closed the distance between them as he kissed him.

It was unlike the other kisses they had shared already, either on the ice between skating or stolen from each other whenever they had a moment alone, away from the eyes of the others. It was deep and powerful and _hungry_ , as if they had been starved of the physical affection of the other for months. A low moan escaped Victor as he pulled Yuuri closer, burying his hands in his thick, black curls as he parted his lips, the most wonderful shiver running down his spine as Yuuri wound his arms around him and held him close. It was incredible how quickly Yuuri could change from the shy and timid man that everyone knew, into a passionate lover that knew what he wanted and _when_ and _where_ and _how_. He wrapped his arms around Victor’s neck, burying his fingers in the soft fabric of his shirt as he deepened the kiss on his own. But Victor happily obliged, and allowed Yuuri to pull him towards the sofa.

“I thought we’d get some dinner,” Victor whispered against his lips as he sat down and kicked his shoes off, but Yuuri straddled his lap, pushing his hair out of the way.

“Not hungry anymore,” Yuuri breathed and kissed him again, firmer and deeper than before, his intentions clear. For the first time, they were completely alone, without having to fear that someone might barge in as it could always happen on the holodeck or in Victor’s office. This time, they had all the time in the world, and it seemed that just like Victor, Yuuri was determined not to waste any second of it.

Victor sighed in content, his hands wandering up and down Yuuri’s sides before they slipped under his shirt, carefully examining the newly found territory, ready to pull away if Yuuri asked him to. But Yuuri responded with a low moan, and his own hand moved under Victor’s shirt, brushing over his skin and examining the fine lines of the scars that usually remained hidden under the fabric. Victor groaned, throwing his head back as Yuuri kissed down his jawline to his neck and sucked on the sensitive skin.

Yuuri Katsuki was a man on a mission, and Victor knew that he was not going to hold back from trying to get what he so desperately desired. And whatever it was that Yuuri was looking for tonight - he would happily give it to him.

"My Yuuri,” Victor murmured. “Why the fuck did we not do this sooner…”

“Don’t ask me,” Yuuri whispered between kisses, his hand reaching for the hem of Victor’s shirt. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to make out-”

“How could I not want this-- oh, fuck!” Victor gasped and shut his eyes as Yuuri’s knee slipped between his legs, not sure whether he had done it by accident or on purpose, but Victor found that he didn’t care.

Now or never.

He pulled Yuuri’s jumper over his head in a single, swift movement, taking the Japanese by surprise for a moment. For a moment, Yuuri stared at him, his lips swollen from the kiss and parted in surprise. But then, he bent down and kissed him again, tugging on the fabric of Victor’s shirt. It joined Yuuri’s jumper on the floor, and Victor took the opportunity to change their positions, pinning Yuuri onto the cushions of the couch, hovering over him triumphantly.

“I think tonight I am in the mood for Japanese,” Victor whispered. “What about you?”

The sudden change of positions seemed to have taken Yuuri by surprise - as Victor began to speak, he blushed all over, and Victor followed it with his fingertips down to his navel.

“I… I’m…” Yuuri stuttered, his eyes growing wider by the second.

Had he changed his mind?

Victor bent down and cupped his cheeks, kissing him ever to lightly. “Tell me what you wish for tonight and I will happily oblige, Yuuri,” he whispered. “No matter what it is. Even if all you want from me is to kiss and hold you all night long. We have all the time in the world.”

Yuuri blinked up at him, a nervous laughter escaping his throat. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” he said softly, reaching up to wrap his arms around Victor’s neck again. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to… to go that far already.”

“Your wish is my command,” Victor said quietly, lips brushing over Yuuri’s cheek. There was no need to rush. They could take their time, get to know each other even better, before taking the next step. Yes, it was even better this way, Victor decided as he kissed his way down to Yuuri’s neck and coaxed the most beautiful sounds out of him.

Suddenly, the ship toppled over, as if an almighty force were pulling on it and threw them off the couch. Victor’s head banged against the edge of the table and he cried out in pain, blindly reaching for Yuuri and holding him against him as the ship lurched, spiraling through space completely out of control with a terrible, deafening screeching sound.

_No. Not again. Not this time._

“What is happening?!” Yuuri called out in panic, his nails digging into Victor’s shoulders.

“Keep your head down!” Victor yelled over the deafening noise, pressing Yuuri against his chest protectively as he sent quick prayers to Heaven, begging that whatever deity it was that ruled over this godforsaken part of the universe would have mercy with them.

And then, all of a sudden, the thunder and swaying vanished, and they were floating again as if nothing had happened at all.

“Ah….fuck...” Victor groaned and reached for the back of his head, rubbing the spot where he had hit the table. “Yuuri? Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” he heard him faintly say, only then realising that he had buried Yuuri underneath him. The lights flickered back on and they sat up slowly, looking around in confusion. Almost every single object had fallen over, the plants by the window lying on the floor between the shards of their vases, the glass of the picture frames burst.

Yuuri seemed slightly dishevelled, but unharmed. “Did you bang your head?” He asked Victor worriedly, reaching out for him.

“I’m okay,” Victor assured him and slowly stood, offering a hand to Yuuri to help him up. “Jesus Christ… what was that?”

“I have no idea,” Yuuri said anxiously, looking towards the window. “But I’m sure this can’t be something good.”

“ _Commander Lee to Captain Nikiforov!_ ” The comm badge on the table crackled violently. “ _Commander Lee to Captain Nikiforov, are you there?!_ ”

Victor grabbed the badge and held it up to his face. “I’m here, Seung-Gil, what happened?”

“ _I don’t know, Captain, but you should come to the bridge immediately_ ,” Seung-Gil replied, and Victor realised that for the first time, Seung-Gil sounded incredibly nervous. “ _Otabek is on his way, it’s not looking good, Captain, it seems that the engine-_ ”

“I’m coming,” Victor replied and let go of the button, grabbing his shirt from the floor. Yuuri did the same, hastily pulling his jumper over his head.

“It’s not looking good, is it?” he asked anxiously. “Victor?”

Victor shook his head, grabbing his shoes. “I don’t think so, no,” he said. “But we’ll know more in a minute.”

* * *

“Shit, shit, _shit_.”

Otabek had _thought_ the containment field would work, but his genius failed him this time. Then again, he was trying to corral to incredibly unstable black holes, and the tiniest thing could cause them too--

“The right warp core is running hot again,” Kenjirou said, and Otabek cursed again. The ship was rolling left and right, unable to keep itself on tack, because the engines were frizting.

“Get into the panel behind it. I’ll get up there and see if I can adjust it manually.”

Kenjirou wasn’t stupid, he _knew_ the risk. But they also knew the outcome if they didn’t at least try. He scaled the side ladder in seconds, and Kenjirou shouted up at him, letting him know that he was in the panel and monitoring things.

This was an absolute shit day, and not just because the engine decided to can itself. He was about one-thousand percent sure that Yuri was _never_ going to talk to again, because well…

 _Honestly, he had no idea what had come over him_.

Yuri had given him that _look_ , before reaching out and rubbing the grease from his forehead, and it was like something inside him had just snapped.

And then there was Victor, souring the mood entirely, even if his concern had been warranted.

No, it was a shit day, and it was getting shittier by the moment.

“This readout is confusing,” Kenijrou yelled up at him. “It shows that the engines are running a little hot, but aside from that, they’re still working properly.”

Otabek’s brow furrowed, as he lifted another panel and began to poke around in it. Kenjirou was right-- the internal temperature of the core was rising, but it wasn’t hitting a level that would be considered _critical_.

He tried to compensate for the core temp rise, but the containment field was still failing miserably. If the couldn’t put a hold on it, then eventually the warp core would enter an overload, and that was something that he actually _couldn’t stop._

His computations beeped in failure and he cursed again.

“Hey uh, Altin?” Kenjirou managed to yell up, panic creeping into his voice. “You didn’t by chance input a _start-up sequence_ , did you?”

Otabek started at that. Of course he hadn’t, why on earth would he? “Kenjirou, get away from the console,” he started, moving to try and stop the engines entirely. He began to input his code for a full-system shut down. It would be a bitch to get everything back running again, but sometimes desperate measures were--

“ _Altin_ ,” Kenjirou snapped, “The fission reactors have turned on. They’re starting up. What are you doing up there?”

 _Nothing_ , he was doing absolutely nothing. And he needed to do something, something really fast, before this entire ship was ripped apart. He slid down the side ladder. “Kenjirou, I think I know what’s happening-- These engines only kick on when they detect power.”

“We’ve shut all that off,” his intern said, pulling away from the back panel. He went to the second engine, sliding behind the contraption and pulling out the panel there. “This engine is fluctuating in the same way… they shouldn’t be--”

“Unless the engine was creating its own energy,” Otabek concluded. “The containment field that I programed isn’t working. The singularities are expanding, and if we don’t get them stabilized--”

He didn’t need to finish the statement for Kenjirou to understand. “Let me slip under here and see what I can do. Keep trying to reprogram the containment field.”

Even with their combined efforts though, the engines refused to shut off. The ship pitched to the left again, and Otabek lost his balance, toppling over. Suddenly, the right engine kicked into full gear, whirring to life from it’s typical dull hum.

“Kenjirou!” Otabek snapped, “Get out from under there--”

“I think that I’ve got it,” the boy yelled back, refusing to budge.

The second engine followed suit, and Otabek went to grab him by the feet. He’d pull him out by force if necessary. “ _Kenjirou_ ,” he snapped. “It’s too late, get out from under there before--”

“Got it!” Kenjirou hissed, before scrambling out from underneath the engines. “I managed to divert most of the power into the ships main system’s. I don’t know how much it’ll help, but it’ll take--”

It didn’t help one bit. The engines kicked into full gear, intending on entering warp drive automatically. And there was no telling what would happen, if they tried to run at such a high temp. “No,” Otabek hissed, running for the control panels. “No, no, _no._ Kenjirou, do you remember the manual override shut-down sequence?”

He had been in the middle of it, when he had left the engines proper. Kenjirou ran to the main computer panel on the underside of the the back programming module. “I’ll input my code,” Otabek said, “and then I need you to turn the gasket manually. It’ll give some resistance, but you should be able to-”

The computer alerted that it had entered warp drive and the engines turned bright blue, signaling that the containment field had fully failed, causing the singularities to expand beyond intended. The principle of the engine was simple-- collide the singularities to a certain point and then pull them apart, using that burst of energy to power the engine. Then everything is immediately cooled.

But the system was running hot, kicking on automatically, and with the singularities so unstable, they wouldn’t be able to control them. And when uncontrolled _black holes collide they create-_

There was a deafening _crack_ that sliced through the air, and it was like the entire ship had suddenly flipped upside down. The room was distorted and Otabek suddenly felt sick, unsure what was up and down, or side to side. He was vaguely aware of Kenjirou screaming, and he scrambled towards the sound, but it was like he had forgotten how to use his limbs.

The air was heavy.

Or was he weightless?

He held back the urge to vomit outright, his stomach dropping like he was on a carnival ride.

The ship was spinning in all directions, and he could _feel_ it trying to correct itself, whoever was piloting it fighting against the force of whatever the engines had created--

Cold dread settled in his stomach. _Created_. Oh no, no, no--

Everything seemed to right itself immediately. Otabek lost his balance, sliding across the floor and suddenly Kenjirou’s screams seemed a _lot_ closer than they had been before. Otabek grunted as he pulled himself over to the boy. Kenjirou had been too close to the engines when they had fired and his eyes down slipped to where his hands were--

Otabek was going to be sick, he was absolutely going to _hurl_. He had seen a lot of things in his life, but certainly never that amount of blood and tissue, or _that kind of injury_. He dug through his pants, cursing his choice to not wear his badge like a normal fucking person.

“Otabek, to Sickbay--”

“ _Otabek_ ,” Chris answered. “ _What on earth is going on--”_

“There’s no time to explain. I’m about to have someone beam Kenjirou to you. He needs immediate attention.”

“ _I’ve had reports of numerous injuries Otabek. I’m trying to handle--_ ”

“ _Are they the kind of injuries that melt your fucking hands off_?” he snapped.

There was a beat and then Chris said, “ _I’ll see to it immediately. In the meantime, get to the bridge and figure out what is going on._ ”

The badge cut out and Otabek called for the transporter room to beam his intern directly there. They did so in record time, and the moment that Kenjirou’s form faded away, Otabek scrambled back to his feet.

The warp plasma had kicked into gear, seeming to do its job at least partially. The engines had dropped out of warp, idling. The room smelled like fire and smoke though, and burning flesh. He crawled underneath the warp core carefully, moving to finish what Kenjirou had been trying to do.

He pulled shimmied out of his shirt, hissing at the heat, and wrapped it around his hands. His command codes had already been entered, he just needed to turn the manual gasket and the entire thing should shut down properly. The ship lurched again, but it wasn’t that same off-kilter feeling from moments before.

He batted at his comm badge again. “Otabek to the bridge,” he snapped, leaving the channel open so he could use his hands.

“ _Thank God, you’re okay,”_ Seung-Gil answered, not bothering with propriety.

“Okay is relative,” he grunted, covering the gasket with his shirt. It was still hot to the touch, but not enough to melt bone. _Small miracles_. “I’m trying to initiate a manual shut-down of the warp core. We were trying to do so, before the entire thing decided to throw itself into warp.”

“ _So you didn’t do that? We were confused and trying to figure out what happened, but you wouldn’t answer your comm badge._ ”

Otabek paused at that. “I’ve had it with me the entire time,” he finally said.

“ _We’ve been trying to page the both of you since this entire thing started._ ”

Otabek resumed his task, and the wheel screeched slightly under his effort. “We’ll figure it out later. Is Victor there?”

There was a pause and then, “ _Victor is_ occupied _at the moment._ ” Otabek couldn’t help that bitter laugh that escaped him at that. _Of course he fucking was_. “ _We could use all Commanding officers up on the bridge--”_

Otabek grunted at that. “I’m a little busy trying to stop a _warp core overload_. I’ll get up there when I get up there.”

Seung-Gil didn’t respond, but Otabek knew that he got the message loud and clear. He managed to turn the gasket entirely, pulling himself out from under the entire thing. The Computer kicked on with, “ _Manual Override Shutdown Sequence Initiated.”_

Otabek let out a long sigh of relief, as he heard the engines begin to wind down. There was still a concern with the singularities, but with the entire system off, the original containment field that had been built should suffice. For the moment at least.

In the meantime, he had _quite_ the bone to pick.

….

Victor didn’t bother getting fully dressed, pulling on only a robe and shoes. Yuuri had at least pulled a shirt on, but no one gave either of them a second glance when they arrived on bridge. The ship had entered a forced red alert, the lights low and blinking with a red cast.

Officers were at stations, reading outputs, running diagnostics, trying to figure out what--

The ship lurched again, this time banking hard to the right.

“Shit,” Yuri spat from his console, pulling the yoke harshly to the left. It wasn’t without struggle.

“Report!” Victor snapped, settling into his Captain’s chair, authority taking over him. Seung-Gil barely looked over at him, managing the security station in the absence of JJ.

“We’re unsure what exactly happened, but it seems that the engines entered a self-forced warp protocol.”

“ _What_.”

“What he means is that shit hit the fan,” Yuri snapped, trying to steady the ship the best he could. “You just missed the chat with Otabek, and he doesn’t sound _remotely_ happy.”

“Open up the main screen.”

“We _tried_ ,” Seung-Gil replied coolly, despite looking rather ruffled. “We have no visuals and half of the ship’s systems have been entirely burned out.”

 _“Explain._ ”

“It looks like Main Engineering re-routed extra power to the main ship,” Leo said from his science station. He flipped a few switches. “It was a _really_ smart idea, even if it blew out half of our programs.”

“Can it be fixed?”

“A lot easier than a warp core breach,” Leo said, radiating positivity. “It might take a day or two, but everything should be operational again.”

Victor opened his mouth to speak, when the turbolift opened and Otabek practically spilled from it. He was breathing heavily, minus his shirt and covered in grime, sweat and who knew what else.

“Otabek--” Victor started, but the engineer beat him to it.

“Oh cut the crap Victor,” he snapped, causing the entire bridge to stop what they were doing. “I _warned_ you what would happen if we didn’t divert as soon as possible to get those replacement parts, but what was it that you said? ‘ _Oh surely a week or two won’t make a difference. We’ll wait until we get to the next checkpoint so we won’t lose time_.”

“Otabek--” Victor repeated, narrowing his eyes in agitation.

But Otabek didn’t care if it was a serious violation of code to speak to his Captain as such. “Well Guess what _Captain_ , we’re definitely losing time now, because I had to manually shut the entire thing down. We’re literally _stranded_ here, until we figure out something better-- and that’s not saying much.”

“ _Otabek_ \--”

“Those cheap parts couldn’t contain shit,” he snapped, and Victor immediately closed his mouth to listen. “And so they overloaded the warp core and the engine kicked into gear, and now we’re fucking _stuck_ here, until I magically come up with some way to _fix_ it, like I always do. And _maybe_ I can get a day or two out of what we have, but we’ll be coasting on limited engines, because I _refuse_ to turn them back on until we can properly work them. And then _maybe_ someone else won’t lose their fucking _hands_.”

Otabek hoped to God above, that Kenjirou wasn’t permanently damaged. Chris was an amazing doctor, but even he had his limits, and _regrowing limbs wasn’t easy_.

Victor didn’t say anything for a long moment, and the entire bridge waited, not wanting to break the mood. And Otabek just stood there, leaning against the banister next to a console, breathing heavily.

And then Victor looked him up and down and said, “Otabek, _you’re bleeding_.”

At that, he started, looking down and sure enough, there was a _huge gash_ along his side, seeping blood, and immediately he felt queasy at the sight.

There were two things that _Otabek didn’t do_.

People, and blood. Especially not his own blood. His response to Kenjirou had been adrenaline fueled, but now that the crisis was immediately over, and he had just laid down the law with his Captain, he couldn’t deal with…

He couldn’t handle…

He promptly passed out, right there on the bridge.

….

Otabek woke up in sickbay with a pounding headache. Literally, it was the headache of the century-- he couldn’t remember the last time that he had woken up feeling like he had been struck by a damn spaceship.

 _Spaceship_.

Immediately he started, shooting up in bed, only to groan in pain. There was something sharp that flared along his side and he immediately settled back down.

“Don’t move, you dumb shit,” someone said to his left. “All you’ll do is open it right back up, and Chris’ll have to stitch you up again.” Yuri sounded aggravated and pissed, but he was there and seemingly unharmed, and Otabek could have just about cried.

Wait, why would he _ever_ consider that?

But when he met the gaze of the Russian, and breathed a sigh of relief. Aside from a few small bruises from being knocked around, a small little cut on his forehead, he was otherwise well.

“You had us worried, old man,” Yuri said, and though his face was hard like stone, his tone wavered the tiniest of bits. “Chris said something about having to let this one heal the good old fashioned way. Of course, if I had realized that he meant by _actually stitching you up_ \--”

“Yuri, it’s okay,” Otabek grunted. “It’s not the first time I’ve had stitches.” And it wasn’t. His father might have been a doctor with fancy tools, but he also had said that minor injuries built character. Whatever the fuck that meant.

“Otabek, what the fuck happened down there?”

He sighed before answering. “The engines got superheated again, but we couldn’t contain them. It caused the engine to kick entire gear automatically, and--” He stopped dead, as he remembered something. The tilting feeling, like the ship had been thrown through a blender.

_Oh no, no, no._

“Yuri, has anyone checked navigation?”

Yuri’s face crumpled in a certain way that was really fricken’ cute, and had it been any other time, Otabek would have appreciated a _lot more_. “No, half of the systems on the ship aren’t even working. We diverted power from non-essential systems to here, so Chris could use them. You aren’t the only person who got knocked around.”

“Do we have star charts? Ones that can be pulled up and compared?”

“Compared? Compared with what?”

“ _With outside_ ,” Otabek snapped, but keeping his voice to a harsh whisper. There was a flurry of activity around them, but no one seemed to notice. There wasn’t any point in causing more panic unless necessary. “Think about it Yuri. The Warp Core overloaded, and the singularities collided. Because we couldn’t contain them--”

“ _Oh shit_ ,” Yuri whispered, his face turning ashen as he realized what exactly might have happened. “A wormhole, it would have created a _fucking wormhole_. Shit, shit, _shit_.”

“Get up to Stellar Cartography and figure out where the hell we are, Yuri.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Yes, please stop that, you're making me nervous.


	8. Floating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theangryuniverse here! We are so sorry for the delay! Christmas was a crazy time for us, and we're both working a lot these days, on our jobs, on academic papers.... you get it, the exam season in Germany is approaching and I'm going mad. But here it comes!

It’d been a long time since Yuri had tried to read a physical star chart, but he was pretty sure that he remembered how. He was better with numbers and coordinates. Fancy sequences spread across a computer screen, signaling locations within the galaxy might have been easier to read, sure, but it wasn’t as though he had a choice this time around. 

None of them did, really, and fixing the mortally wounded was more important than the  _ ease _ of computational navigation. No, he’d have to do this by hand.

It didn’t explain what he was looking at though, the map spread out across the low drafting table in the stellar cartography room. He studied it severely, his lips twisted into a slight frown, as he traced his finger along the page, before comparing it to what he saw outside the massive viewing screen. 

Initially, the computer had refused him to see  _ anything _ , and Otabek had to give him a command code to override it.  _ A fucking Commander _ , he thought suddenly, the idea of it still burning wildly in his man. Otabek was the least Commander-y person on board the damn ship. 

The stars made no sense, he finally deduced. Whatever it was he was staring at outside, wasn’t the night sky that he had grown up with in his life. Which meant that Otabek was  _ right _ , and that they were  _ fucking stranded somewhere completely unknown _ . 

Suddenly, Yuri felt sick, leaning over the table as he gripped the smooth surface tightly. The dread in his stomach was heavy, and he felt ill, and he-- 

He wouldn’t throw up, what kind of example would that set? Minami had lost  _ his fucking hands _ , for Christ’s sake. And Otabek was groaning on his cot in sickbay, like the wimp that he was, Yuri had no doubt. But he had tasked him with this, tasked him with figuring out where they were. 

For once in his life, he was trusted enough to do something of actual importance. And the fate of the ship rested on this, on him figuring out where they were. He never realized how much he had wanted to prove himself. Otabek had  _ pleaded _ with him to figure it out, and by god Yuri would do the stupid man proud. 

For the good of the ship, of course. This wasn’t anything personal, he reminded himself. 

And so he pushed onward, steeling himself and knowing that there was a  _ ton _ a math ahead of him. Thankfully, that was one class he hadn’t nearly flunked out of. 

….

It took nearly a day, but Yuri estimated that they were somewhere on the outermost edge of the Gamma Quadrant. Somewhere that Starfleet had never gone before. 

Part of him was excited. Of  _ course _ it was, he was an explorer. He had joined Starfleet to fly amazing ships and see the galaxy. He just hadn’t wanted it like this, with their ship barely hanging on by threads and half their crew seriously injured. 

Or you know, with a ship that could literally blow any moment. That definitely was the worst part about this whole situation. He was  _ too fucking young for this _ , not to mention he had just met Otabek, and was just---

He let out a long and tired sigh at the thought of the engineer, leaning back in his chair. He  _ really _ needed to get over it, this stupid little crush. Except that it wasn’t a stupid little crush. Except that he thought of Otabek every fucking moment, of every fucking day, and that the moment he’d hurt himself in the engine room, he’d freaked out. And then when he saw him lying there in sick bay, his gut had been twisted in knots, despite Chris saying that he’d be alright. That he’d make a full recovery. 

He didn’t hear the doors to the room open, and nearly jumped out of his skin when a coffee mug clinked around the table. But the moment he saw the delicate hand, a gold ring around her thumb and colorful bracelet around her wrist, he relaxed.

“Maya, you are truly a godsend,” he groaned, sitting up straight and wrapping his fingers around the mug. It wasn’t the first time he had uttered such a thing, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Maya’s lips twitched into a small curl as she took the seat next to him. 

“My brother was pretty delirious when I saw him, but he managed to mention he sent you off down here."

At that, Yuri started with, “ _ Delirious--” _

“Oh he’s fine,” she tutted. “They swapped his pain meds for something else since, since he wouldn’t shut up. I think that the Doctor is enjoying seeing Otabek stoned out of his damn mind.”

Part of Yuri wanted to see that as well, because it would be without a doubt, absolutely  _ hilarious _ . 

Maya was quiet at she watched him just mope there in his chair. Finally, he said, “We’re lost.”

She hummed quietly and replied with, “Well, I mean, I gathered that--”

“No you don’t understand,” Yuri interrupted. “We’re not lost in a, ‘ _ oh we’ve lost our coordinates _ ’ kind of way. It’s a ‘ _ we’ve been thrown across the literally Galaxy in unknown space’,  _ kind of way.” He sighed, rubbing his hand down his face tiredly. “I mean, Otabek might be literally the coolest person in the universe, but why the fuck did he design such a thing?  _ Why did Starfleet decided this was a good idea _ ?”   


Maya’s expression became a little pinched, causing Yuri to remember something that Otabek constantly complained about which was-- “Maya,” he finally said quietly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--” He had forgotten that the only reason the engine was even a  _ thing _ , was because she had  _ volunteered _ the design out of spite. 

“I didn’t mean to, either, you know,” she said quietly. Yuri had never mentioned this thing with her, only listening to her brother gripe about it. “Do you know what he does back home?” she asked, and Yuri shook his head. “He works on things. Bikes, cars. Appliances. He likes to take them apart and put them back together, and really that’s an awesome thing.”

“I’m sensing there’s a  _ but _ about to be said,” Yuri supplied quietly, taking a sip of the coffee she had brought him. 

“It’s a fucking waste. You should see his office Yuri-- floor to ceiling and desk  _ covered _ in designs. Things that could change the world. Things that could make lives better.” She paused, sighing. “Just sitting there, collecting dust.” 

Yuri knew about wasted potential. It was all anyone ever said about himself, before coming here. “I firmly believe that Otabek is probably the smartest person in the Galaxy,” he finally said, “and even he knows that this isn’t really your fault. You didn’t make Starfleet build it.”

Maya’s demeanor changed and that was the signal to drop the subject. Finally, she asked, “Also, the  _ coolest _ person in the galaxy?”

Yuri scowled. “Ugh, forget that I said that.”

“No, no,” she said happily. “You should tell him that.”

“ _ Absolutely the fuck not _ ,” Yuri snapped. Otabek already had an ego the size of the universe, even if he was quiet about it. He didn’t need to add to it. 

Maya hummed lightly, running her fingers over the table. “No really,  _ you should _ .”

Yuri’s head fell to the desk. “You know, when I told you that I might be gay--”

“For my brother,” she cut in. 

“ _ For your brother _ ,” he reluctantly hissed, “that wasn’t an invitation to try to fucking set us up.”

Maya blinked at him innocently, though Yuri knew that she was literally anything but. If Maya had the ability to literally throw him at Otabek and make it work, she would do so in a heartbeat. “We should go see him,” she said suddenly. 

As appealing as Otabek stoned out of his goddamn mind was, Yuri had actual work to do. He drained the rest of his coffee and stood. Reaching out, he quickly rolled up the star charts and ducked them under his arm. 

“For once in my life, I’ve been given a task of actual importance,” he said. “I really should at least report to the Captain first.”

“And  _ then _ you’ll go see my brother?” Maya looked stupidly hopeful and it made Yuri want to claw her eyeballs out. 

“And then I’m going to fucking  _ bed _ ,” he hissed, before heading out the door and into the hallway, Maya laughing at his back.

* * *

 

Victor couldn’t breathe.

The moment he had entered sickbay, he had smelled it; the distinctive scent of the blue liquid that still haunted him in his dreams sometimes, reminding him of the excruciating pain that inevitably came with it. Pressing his hand over his mouth and nose, he held his breath as he reached for a facemask that Yuuko was holding out to him and put it on. It was the only way that he could think straight, keep a clear head, and get an impression of the state of his crew. 

Almost every bed in the sickbay was occupied by more or less injured crew members. Most of them had merely cuts and bruises on their arms and faces, holding still as the nurses dabbed them with cotton balls soaked in tonic. 

“He will be okay,” Yuuko said to him as he glanced at Otabek again, who was lying on his bed and rubbing his face with an annoyed groan while his sister Maya basically yelled him down. “Stitches aren’t nice, but sometimes the best method. We gave him something against the pain that will make him feel a little dizzy, but he should be fine in two or three hours. After the shock his body needs the rest.”

“I can imagine that he was not happy to hear that,” Victor murmured, relieved that Otabek was fine except for the gash and the stitches. “Thank you, Yuuko.”

“How about the others?” Yuuri asked, pulling the mask over his mouth and nose as well as he came to stand next to Victor. 

“Mostly cuts and bruises, and a few broken bones,” she informed him. “But nothing we can’t fix. Except....” She took a deep breath. “Kenjirou Minami is still undergoing the procedure. We can’t say anything for sure until we’ve seen the final results. He is under Dr. Giacometti’s constant supervision.”

Victor nodded, running a hand through his hair to hide the fact that it was shaking. “I need to see him. Minami. Where is he?”

Yuuko nodded. “This way, Captain.” 

If Yuuri had not been there, Victor was sure he would not have had the strength to see him. But he had felt from the very beginning that in Yuuri’s presence, he was stronger, and calmer. As if his mere presence kept the panic at bay, and his head remained clear and his mind focused. Yuuri kept him grounded, and gave him the strength that he needed as the Captain of this ship.

They followed Yuuko across the room to the back where a white curtain separated a single bed from the rest of the others. The closer they came, the louder the whimpers seemed to become, but Victor did not stop. Carefully, as if not to startle the person behind the curtain, Yuuko pushed the thin fabric aside, revealing an incredibly pale, shaking, and sobbing Minami. 

Victor heard a sharp intake of breath coming from behind him, only then realising that Yuuri, unlike himself, had had no idea of what he was about to see. 

Minami sat on the bed, his arms firmly tied to a padded armrest linked to something that looked like a basin within a lap table. It was filled with a bright blue liquid that seemed to sparkle in the bright light of the lamp next to them, like thousands of tiny fireworks that had begun to form the shape of a pair of hands. 

“Victor-” Christophe began as he recognised the captain, but Victor shook his head dismissively. 

He could bear the sight.

He had seen it all before.

Minami let out a heartbreaking sob at the sight of the captain, but took a deep breath, as if he were trying to pull himself together in front of him to not appear weak. But Victor could not have cared less about bravery in this moment. The boy was alive, and nothing else mattered. 

“C-Captain,” Minami breathed, shaking like a leaf. “I w-would like to r-report that w-we-”

“No, no, Minami, forget about that now,” Victor interrupted him calmly and touched his shoulder. “I’m just glad to see that you are alive. Otabek has already told us what has happened in the Engine Room, and about the risk that you took in order to keep this ship from blowing up completely.”

Minami whimpered again, but bit his lip to stop himself from crying due to pain and the unexpected praise. Victor dropped his gaze to the basin with the blue liquid, watching as nerve endings connected, their electronic transmissions causing tiny explosions and excruciating pain for the person on the receiving end. 

“How is the procedure going?” Victor asked Chris, who was watching them like a hawk. 

“So far, it seems to be working well,” the doctor replied. “Unfortunately, we could not give him any painkillers. Hands are too delicate and their structure too complicated. Numbing the nerve endings would most likely cause permanent nerve damage and make his hands nearly unusable.”

“Oh my God,” Yuuri whispered behind them.

“I c-can do it, C-captain!” Minami breathed and tried to sit up straight. “I’m n-not a c-coward.”

Victor removed the mask from his face, the smell of the blue liquid hitting his nose, but he did not care. “There is absolutely no shame in crying when one is in great pain, Minami,” he said calmly. “Believe me, I know how it feels.”

“Victor-” Chris said, but Victor ignored him as he reached for the sleeve of the dressing gown that he was still wearing, pushing it up almost all the way to his shoulder. There, almost parallel to his heart, was a very thin line that could easily be mistaken for either a shadow or an old scar. But upon closer inspection, it unmistakably resembled the remains of the very procedure that Minami was going through. 

“I had lost my entire arm,” Victor told the stunned Minami, whose eyes had begun to fill with tears again. “And if it had not been for the doctors on earth, I would not have gotten it back. I still remember the pain, and begging for it to be over. You are the bravest man on this ship right now, Crewman. And no tear that you may shed will have me or anyone else here think less of you.”

Minami stared at Victor with wide eyes for a moment before he burst into tears again, sobbing a thank you and other things that neither of them could understand. Victor let go of his sleeve again and patted Minami’s shoulder carefully. “You are in the very best care here, Minami. Dr. Giacometti knows what he is doing, and I can promise that the pain will soon be over and you will have a beautiful pair of brand-new hands that would make any manicure model jealous.”

A shaky laugh escaped Minami, and Yuuri stepped forward to put an arm around the other man’s shoulders, speaking to him in gentle Japanese as Chris pulled Victor aside and drew the curtain to give Minami some privacy. 

“I’m okay,” Victor said before Chris could even open his mouth. “This is not a trigger for me.”

“Good,” Chris said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Do we already know what the hell has happened? I don’t understand any of Otabek’s technobabble.”

“I’m still waiting for the official report, but it seems that the warp core was overloaded and the engine basically acted on its own,” Victor told him in a low voice, not wanting to be overheard. 

Chris stared at him for a long moment, at loss for words. Although he had mainly been trained in Medicine, he understood the basics of Space Travel like most of them. And that an overloaded warp core was a terrible, deadly thing.

“How-”

“I don’t know,” Victor sighed. “That’s why I’m still waiting for the official report. And for Otabek to wake from his dizziness.”

“Captain.”

Victor turned around, finding Yuri Plisetsky standing a few meters away from him, a large piece of paper in his hand that looked like a map. 

“Take care of Minami, he’s a good kid,” Victor murmured and patted Chris’ shoulder before giving Yuri his full attention. “What is this?” He asked, gesturing at the map.

“Not here,” Yuri replied and threw a glance over his shoulder. “Outside, please.”

Victor frowned. Yuri Plisetsky was not the kind of person to use a word like ‘please’, but when he did, it carried a certain weight and Victor knew that whatever he was about to tell him was of very serious nature. Therefore, he did not protest as Yuri walked towards the exist of the sickbay out to the now empty hallway. Everyone had remained to their posts, and the corridor was abandoned and quiet except for the occasional  _ beep  _ of the computer on the wall beside them. 

“Long story short,” Yuri said before Victor could even open his mouth “Shit hit the fan. The singularities in the warp core created a wormhole and we got sucked into it.” He began unfolding the paper and revealed an old-fashioned star map, which he pressed against the wall to get a better look. “We have skipped a distance that we have yet to calculate to have the precise numbers, but what we know is that we have ended up in a quadrant of the universe that no Starfleet ship has ever entered before.”

It was as if a cruel, powerful force had wrapped itself around Victor’s heart and had begun to squeeze the life out of him.

“A  _ wormhole _ ,” Victor repeated, his voice barely audible as he spoke. 

Yuri nodded, and for the first time since Victor knew him, the young Russian seemed genuinely serious and  _ worried _ . “Even with a functioning warp core, it would take us decades to get home, Captain.”

It was happening _ all over again. _

Reports. Bad news. Discussions of what to do next. Resignation. Desperation. Acceptance. Anger. And it all came over him at once, not caring that it was too much. It all came over Victor in one go, suffocating him slowly. 

Yuri’s voice was barely more than a whisper to him as the man spoke again.

“I can’t say more than that at the moment,” Yuri said, putting the map together again as he glanced at the door that led into sickbay. “Otabek knows more about this engine than I do, and so does Minami, but it’s better to not ask him, I think. We have to wait until Otabek is released from sickbay and then check the engines again, maybe there is some way that we-”

“Thank you, Ensign,” Victor interrupted him, in awe at his own capability to speak. “We… we should wait until Otabek is with us again. Until then, please keep what you have told me to yourself.”

Yuri stared at him. “But Captain-”

“I do not want to cause a panic before we haven’t ruled out any-”

The door to sickbay opened beside them and Yuuri came into the hallway, pausing as he saw Victor and Yuri together by the wall. 

Victor straightened his shoulders in attempt to remain calm, but he found that he was not. His hands had begun to shake, the muscles in his stomach cramping painfully as the panic that he wanted to spare his crew from began to rise inside him, not caring that he was in public, that he had a reputation to uphold. 

Thankfully, their pilot seemed to understand. He nodded grudgingly. “I’ll be with Otabek, then,” Yuri said and turned away from Victor, nodding at Yuuri as he went back into sickbay. 

The moment the door closed behind the Russian, Victor let out a small, strangled cry as the panic took his heart into its firm, merciless grasp. 

He could hear his lover’s voice from far away, and his arms around his chest as he was pulled away, his feet barely obeying him as he was dragged from the hallway into an empty room. Victor gasped for air, the panic rising to his throat, strangling him and cloaking him in darkness from which there seemed to be no way out. But there was also a light, a single light in the dark in the form of gentle hugs and touches, a reassuring voice whispering to him, so powerful that it got to him through the dark. It was Yuuri’s voice that spoke to him, Yuuri’s arms that held him, Yuuri’s lips that kissed him and told him that everything would be alright. 

Victor cried. 

And he kept on crying, as if he had never shed a single tear in his life before.

The panic, the anxiety, and the pain had been part of his life ever since. The day he had woken up in hospital, connected to machines and tubes, doctors surrounding him as they fought for his life and sanity, it had all begun. 

And it never, ever seemed to stop.

But Yuuri, his wonderful, incredible Yuuri, held him close, and let him weep, despite not knowing a single thing.

What had he done to deserve an angel?

“I am here,” Yuuri whispered, his lips brushing Victor’s temple as he finally managed to calm down at least a little. His senses obeyed him once more, and he became aware of his surroundings, but he refused to let go of Yuuri, holding him tight. And Yuuri held him in return.

“I’m sorry,” Victor breathed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Yuuri whispered. “I’m here.”

“I’m sorry...”

“Everything’s okay…”

“I’m so… so sorry, Yuuri…”

“There is nothing you have to be sorry for, Victor,” Yuuri assured him quietly and cupped his cheeks, kissing his forehead. “Take your time. Look at me. We will find a solution to everything.”

“We won’t, we won’t,” Victor whispered in terror, burying his face in Yuuri’s shoulder. “It is all happening again. It is all my fault again. I cannot do this again, Yuuri, not again, not again, not again-”

No one knew the truth. No one except for the ones that he had let in on his terrible secret, that he was responsible for the deaths of so many, that he had their blood on his hands. That they all called him a hero, but that almost no one knew the truth. That he was a murderer.

“What can you not do again, Victor?” Yuuri asked helplessly, holding onto him as if Victor were his anchor, the only thing to keep the other from drowning. “Talk to me, Victor, tell me what pains you so-”

“It is my fault that they died,” Victor whimpered. “All those people. The crew… the attack, I… I couldn’t foresee any of it, but I couldn’t do anything, I had to do something, our captain was dead, I…” The pictures flooded his mind, and with them everything that he had hidden away in his heart: the screams of dying people, the smell of burning flesh, the pain, the terror, everything. 

“Victor,” Yuuri whispered, pulling him even closer. “Victor, I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”

“It will all happen again.” Victor was shaking like a leaf, but Yuuri wouldn’t let go. He held him, close to his heart, whispering to him the most beautiful lies. And lies they had to be.

No one could ever love a monster.

“It will not happen again,” Yuuri said softly. “Not this time. You are not alone. You have me. Do you hear me? You have me, and you have a crew that trusts you and supports you. We will find a way. Together.”

It was the kindest lie that Victor had ever been told. 

He opened his eyes and pulled away a little, looking at Yuuri. His Yuuri, his beautiful, incredible Yuuri, who was always so quiet and reserved, but had the greatest heart of them all. 

He did not deserve him. 

“I will help you,” Yuuri said and wiped Victor’s tears away with his thumb. “I always will.”

But before Victor could reply, the door to their left opened and someone entered the room. It was Seung-Gil. 

The First Officer froze at the sight of them, looking down at the pair on the floor. If he had been surprised to see the two in an embrace, he did not let it show. Instead, he merely reached behind himself and pushed the button on the wall to close the door again and then, he knelt down beside Victor, studying him from head to toe. Almost like a surgeon, deciding where to cut first. For Yuuri, it was a terrifying sight.

“Is there anything that I can get you, Victor?” Seung-Gil asked him surprisingly calmly, and Yuuri began to wonder if he had misunderstood him.

Victor shook his head. 

Seung-Gil glanced at Yuuri, who was still holding Victor close, before he continued. “They have told me what has happened,” he said. “Whilst I get that this is probably one of the reasons that justifies that one panics, you cannot do that, Victor. You are the captain. Damn it.”

“Commander-” Yuuri began, but Seung-Gil ignored him. Victor swallowed thickly.

“This is not just a dangerous situation. This is exactly the kind of situation you and I have been prepared for at the Academy, and every single time, in every single simulation, you managed to find a way out. But this is not the kind of crisis where you have to decide which button to push and which lever to hit in order to stop the ship from blowing up. We are  _ beyond  _ that point now, Victor. This is about finding a solution, not survival. Do you understand that?” 

He grabbed Victor by his shoulder, shaking him lightly. 

“If you see yourself unfit to finish this mission I see myself forced to take the command away from you,” Seung-Gil said, his voice cold and emotionless, almost as if he were an executioner dragging Victor to the stake.

“Perhaps you were right when you first told me about it,” Seung-Gil continued, as if he had not just run into Victor crying against Yuuri’s shoulder. “About your command, and this ship. If you cannot pull yourself together you’re unfit for this position.” He rose again, smoothing out his shirt. “Perhaps you should accept your defeat, Victor.”

Victor knew Seung-Gil. He was one of his best friends. He knew why the Korean was doing this. 

But that did not mean that he agreed with it.

“Don’t you dare to insult me, Seung-Gil,” Victor growled. “You may be my friend, but I’m still your  _ captain _ .” Clutching Yuuri’s hand tightly, he got to his feet again, glaring at the other man who had already turned away and headed for the door again. “And you’re my First Officer, so do as I say and get the crew back to their posts. I expect everyone to be ready for a ship-wide announcement in thirty minutes.  _ Understood _ ?”

Seung-Gil paused and turned his head, a sparkle in his dark eyes that Victor had seen before, albeit a few times only. It unsettled him, but he would not back down. He would not allow his First Officer, his friend to think that he was weak when he was not. 

“Yes,” Seung-Gil said with a small nod.

“Yes,  _ what _ .”

Seung-Gil turned around once more, fully this time. And then, he straightened his shoulders and inclined his head politely.

“Yes,  _ Captain _ .”

Victor gave him an approving nod and watched him leave, only to sigh deeply as soon as Seung-Gil was out of sight. The Korean annoyed the hell out of him sometimes, but Seung-Gil always knew how to handle him. He always did. Even in times of great despair. And friends like that were incredibly rare, and therefore valuable. 

He felt a gentle hand touching his, and as Victor looked up, he found Yuuri standing close to him, his eyes filled with both worry and hope. “We’ll get through this,” Yuuri said, his voice surprisingly firm as he spoke. “I know it. You and me, we’ll get through this. With the whole crew. You’re not alone, remember?”

Victor stared at him in awe, at this miracle amongst humankind that had been gifted to him for some reason that he did not understand yet. He knew about Yuuri’s anxiety and his fear of space, and that this, the situation they were in right now, was probably every single nightmare of Yuuri come true at once. And yet, he stood there, telling him that everything would be alright. That everything would be okay.

He had swallowed his anxiety for Victor’s sake. 

And Victor pulled him into his arms and kissed his hair, whispering a confession of love. 

* * *

“Yuri!” 

The pilot in question blinked and then scowled. Otabek was awake and clearly alive, grinning right back with a goofy smile spread across his face. Now he saw what Maya meant by  _ stoned out of his damn mind _ . It’d only been just over a month, but he was fairly certain that Otabek wouldn’t be caught dead acting like this.  _ Ever _ . 

Yuri didn’t like it. This wasn’t the surly, hermit of a man that he-- 

He paused, swallowing thickly, remembering the night that he had a mental break down in front of Maya.  _ That he had turned gay for _ . He had finally come terms with it, and the more that he said it, the less it bothered him. In fact, the more that he said it, the more that he liked it. and the more that his heart sped up at the thought. 

He fell into the chair beside the bed, groaning tiredly. Really, he should have gone straight to bed after talking to the Captain but… he spared a glance at Otabek, who flashed a crooked grin right back. 

Yuri had seen him smile, a little quirk of his lips in an amused smirk, but this was different. It seemed genuine and it made Yuri’s chest lurch. 

“Otabek,” he started with, “I looked at the star charts--” But he cut himself off when Otabek reached out, grabbing at a strand of his hair, running his fingers through it. Yuri had forgotten that his hair was down.

“You’re wearing it down,” the engineer said lightly. “I’ve never seen it like this.”

Of course he hadn't. Yuri kept it tied back while on shift, because otherwise it just got in the way. He moved to bat away his hand. “Hey, stop it,” he muttered, swatting at him. 

But Otabek only chuckled. “It’s almost like silk,” he replied, but eventually let go. 

“As I was saying--” But then Yuri paused once more. Would it do any good to even  _ try _ to talk about this with him at the moment? Otabek was brilliant, but was he the kind to still be brilliant while under  _ the influence _ ?

Probably. 

The engineer suddenly reached out, taking Yuri’s hand into his. And Yuri froze, waiting to see what would happen. It wasn’t like the first time Otabek had touched him, hell, even  _ he _ had rubbed his thumb across the man’s face, and then the times that they had been  _ this close to kissing _ -

But this was different. It felt more  _ intimate, _ if something could be. And Yuri liked it. He  _ yearned _ for it, Otabek’s calloused palm and fingers. Yuri found himself practically craving it. Otabek held him gently, like he thought he might snap his hand right in half. He probably could. 

Otabek, who had been waiting expectantly, finally asked, “What is it?”

“You know what?” Yuri replied with, throwing caution into the wind. “We’ll talk about it later.” An extra hour or two wouldn’t make that much of a different when you were literally lost in fucking space. He might as well at least  _ enjoy _ the damn moment. 

Otabek definitely was, judging by the relaxed smile on his face and the way his thumb stroked across the back of his hand. 

Well, that clearly settled it. Maya had been right-- Otabek was absolutely  _ into him _ , even if he was literally tripping balls at the moment. 

Despite everything-- the severity of the situation, the dread of what was to come-- Yuri managed a small smile back. 

Even if their journey home was about to take  _ several fucking decades _ , Yuri could manage it, if Otabek was there. And so, he reached over with his free hand, squeezing Otabek’s gently before relaxing in his chair. 

It was going to be a long night. He might as well enjoy the company. 

* * *

A sharp jab to the shoulder woke him. Otabek didn’t like the fuzzy feeling that surrounded his brain. Normally he was clear-headed and sharp, but everything seemed muted and dull. He must have dozed off, he realized, vaguely remembering Chris  _ finally _ giving him pain meds. 

They must have worn off, because the moment he jolted, searing pain shot down his side.  _ Stitches _ , he remembered. All things considered he’d made it out of this whole ordeal with a minor injury, even if Chris had sewn him up like some sort of barbarian. 

He groaned at that thought, trying to settle back into the hospital bed, but when he went to move his arm, he was met with an odd sort of resistance. He looked down, only to find Yuri folded over the edge of the cot, snuggling into his arm like it was the comfiest pillow of all time. 

Well, that was new. But it was also welcome. He reached over with his other arm, pressing his fingers against Yuri’s hair. It was like silk and--

“Oh, don’t mind me,” someone said from the otherside of the bed, and Otabek’s gaze snapped to him, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

Victor looked absolutely ridiculous sitting in the other chair, still pretty much half naked, but at least he had pulled his robe tight around himself. Otabek hastily pulled his hand away and moved to wake Yuri, but Victor held out his hand to stop him. “Leave him,” the captain said quietly. “He’s been up for nearly a day and he’s worked hard. Besides, what I’m about to talk to you about, he already knows.”

Otabek could feel the cold dread, slowly creeping into his stomach. He wasn’t sober enough for this. He  _ hated _ those fucking pain meds, but he’d down them if it meant  _ ignoring _ what he was about to hear. “We’re lost, aren’t we?” he finally asked, his throat feeling thick. 

When Victor didn’t immediately answer, Otabek swore quietly, trying not to wake up Yuri. 

“What happened down there, Otabek?” Victor asked, his tone serious. 

“Kenjirou and I had been monitoring things non-stop, ever since Yuri figured out that those parts were made of shit.”

“Yuri figured that out?” Otabek had forgotten that while explaining to their oh-so-illustrious Captain, about the substandard quality of their engine core, he  _ might _ have left that part out. Victor would have made a big deal about it, and Otabek just  _ knew _ it would have rubbed the pilot the wrong way. So Otabek never mentioned it. “Is that why you requested the temporary transfer to the engine--”

“ _ As I was saying _ ,” Otabek interrupted, “There’s been some strange fluctuations the last few weeks, but nothing substantial. Aside from keeping an eye on it, we didn’t see it as anything severe.”

“Until  _ now _ .”

“I’m not sure what happened,” Otabek sighed. “The engine is designed to take one singularity--”

“And by singularity, you mean  _ black hole _ ,” Victor interrupted, prompting a flare from the engineer. 

“ _ A piece of one _ ,” he hissed, trying to level his voice. Yuri hadn’t stirred yet though, and Otabek had the distinct feeling that the man probably slept like the dead. “Colliding it against another. But the collider is supposed to stop the explosion before critical mass, using the burst of energy to charge the warp core. It’s a fool-proof way to maintain an engine for extended space travel-- if it works properly.”

“Assuming that the engine is stable enough, which I’m assuming it’s not.” Otabek didn’t miss the tired and defeated tone that had taken over the Captain. 

“Tritanium is  _ essential _ to containing the singularities. They explosion is cooled with plasma, instead of using the plasma as a power source, but none of it means shit, if the containment can’t  _ contain _ anything.”

“Otabek if I had known--”

“Victor, don’t be stupid,” Otabek cut in quietly. “I know that you didn’t know, but I  _ wish _ you had listened to me. I told you that we couldn’t put it off, and look at us now. Half the ship is down, people are permanently injured and I can keep the engines coasting for  _ maybe _ a week, before we have to figure out what to do.”

“ _ I don’t know what to do _ .” 

Something about his tone didn’t sit well. Something was off. Victor was only ever this desperate if there was nothing that could be fixed and-- 

“Where did we end up?” Otabek finally asked, but Victor couldn’t find the words. “ _ How far are we _ ?”

“Who the fuck knows.” It wasn’t Victor who had answered, but rather Yuri, who had shifted slightly against Otabek’s arm, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Keep it down will you? People are trying to sleep.”

“What do you mean, ‘who the fuck knows’?” Otabek repeated, asking for clarification. 

Yuri rubbed at his face again. “As in,  _ who the fuck knows. _ As in, I’ve poured over star charts for a dozen straight hours, and haven’t really figured it out. As in, the stars out there are unrecognizable and don’t match  _ anything _ in our records, and judging by my best estimate, we’re on the far side of the fucking Gamma Quadrant,  _ decades _ from Federation space.”

Otabek felt his heart skip a beat, his fingers tightening in his sheet slightly. Well, that absolutely explained Victor’s lack of resolve. 

“Is the ship in decent order?”

“Not all systems are back online yet, but we’re working on it. Whatever you did down in engineering blew out half the ship’s components.”

When Kenjirou re-routed the excess energy burst directly into the ship’s systems. The Captain sounded annoyed, but it likely saved their lives. Victor would eventually get over it. 

“So, the new plan is--”

“Have you forgotten I’m the Captain?”

“Otabek’s a Commander, can’t he assume control if need be?” Any other time, Otabek would have  _ loved _ to hear sarcastic sass come from Yuri’s mouth. This was the worst possible moment though. 

“ _ How did you--” _ Victor started.

“ _ New plan _ ,” Otabek snapped, cutting in once more. “We repair the engines-- and by that I mean,  _ rebuild _ . Even if we’re in unknown space, as long as the scanners are up, we can try and find tritanium, or something similar. We can graft new portions onto the containment grid on the engine.”

“A new engine is useless if we can’t find a way  _ home _ ,” Victor said rather harshly. 

“Which is the plan,” Otabek deadpanned. “We fix the engine, we make a new wormhole and we--”

“What? Just coast home?”

Otabek narrowed his eyes shrewdly at the Captain. “I’m out of options,  _ Captain _ ,” he hissed. “We could have prevented this, but that’s in the past. Now we’re stranded and I’ll do my fucking  _ hardest _ to try and get us back home in one piece.”

Otabek wanted Victor to get angry, because that would mean that he was actually going to  _ do _ something about all of this. But the Captain just sighed, dragging his hand down his face. 

“This is just too much,” Victor finally said. “This was supposed to work out, this was supposed to be  _ easy _ .”

“Who the fuck said  _ space travel _ was easy?” 

Victor and Otabek both looked to Yuri, who had finally sat up. A sleepy frown tugged at his lips and Otabek thought it was  _ adorable _ . Not that he’d ever admit that. Ever. 

But Victor’s lips twitched into a tiny smile. “Thank you, both of you,” he said. “I know it’s been a rough day but.. Thank you.” 

Yuri crossed his arms, leaning back into the chair. “That Captain thanked me. I’ll add that to the list of  _ things that’ll never happen again _ .”

But Victor only looked amused, before standing from the chair. “I should go get properly dressed. I’m sure the ship is tired of seeing this much of me.” He paused and Yuri made a gagging face. Otabek had seen far worse, so he thanked his lucky stars that Victor was at least in a robe. The man wasn’t above stumbling around butt naked, if it was an emergency. Victor moved to smooth out the material of the garment. “I think it’s time to give the ship an explanation. Everyone’s been on edge long enough.”

“I’ll head down to engineering as soon as--”

“No, you stay here. Right now, we’re fine idling. We’ll hold position for a little longer, figure out a heading and do some scans.” Then Victor gave him his signature crooked smile, even if it looked tired. “Get some rest, you’ll need it. You too, Yuri.” 

And then he turned and left them. 

Yuri sat there awkwardly for a long moment. “How’s the cut?”

Otabek grunted. “The meds have worn off, so it hurts like a bitch.”

“But I mean, no permanent damage, right?”

“Nah, you’re stuck with me for awhile.”

Yuri let out a short laugh, before leaning forward in his chair. “Scoot over,” he said. 

Otabek blinked. “ _ What _ .”

“Scoot over,” Yuri repeated, waving at him. “This chair is hard and that bed is big enough for two.”

Otabek did as he asked, and Yuri climbed up next to him, settling back against the cushioned headboard. Their shoulders brushed, and despite being what he would call  _ snug _ , it wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Yuri, you can’t sleep here,” he said, but already his resolve was wavering. 

“I don’t want to go back to my room,” Yuri said softly. “I don’t really want to be alone, if you know what I mean.” 

Right. Because of the whole stranded in space thing. Besides, Otbake  _ missed _ his company. The whole hanging out as friends thing, and the late-night view screen calls because they were board.

"And besides, I have to go back to the bridge soon. Might as well get some more rest before that."

“Of course you can stay,” Otabek finally replied. “Just know that I’m a snuggler in my sleep.” He meant it in jest, but Yuri’s cheeks burned, and he tried to hide it by looking away. 

“I kick in my sleep, so fair game.”

The bed wasn’t more comfortable than the chair, but it worked for them, laying side-by-side. Close enough for Otabek to smell the faint scent of Yuri’s shampoo and engine burn, but farther than he craved for. Finally, after a long moment, Yuri asked, “Do you think we’ll actually get home?”

“Of course,” was Otabek’s immediate reply. 

“We’ll be wrinkly old men by the time we make it home.”

At least they’d be old and wrinkly together. But Otabek didn’t reply with a witty retort. Instead he said with severe sincerity, “I won’t let that happen,  _ Yura _ .”

There was a moment and then, “Yura?”

“Do you hate it?”

“No.” 

“Good.”

* * *

 

Yuuri had watched Victor leave, the doors closing behind his lover and leaving him alone in the hallway. Victor would be fine, he told himself. At least for now. He would sit down with Commander Lee and Otabek Altin and discuss the details of the engine failure and how to proceed. They were his friends. They would help him if he panicked. 

Right?

Yuuri sighed, rubbing his face as he walked down the hallway and back towards sickbay. Within minutes, so many things had happened, so many things had been said that made his head spin. Victor had finally opened up to him, albeit only a little bit. He knew now that behind the cheerful facade that Victor always showed to the world, there was a terribly scared young man, desperate and lonely. And the fact that he trusted him enough to tell him even only a tiny bit of the depths of his soul moved Yuuri deeply. 

He knew what it was like to feel hopeless. Oh, in fact, he knew it far too well. He had spent countless hours with psychologists, trying to win the fight against his anxiety. Then, he had met Phichit, and he had learnt to accept his anxiety as a part of him. It would always be there, that he knew now, but he would not allow his anxiety to control him. The moment he had made peace with his mind, he had been able to move on. 

Victor, however, was still right in the midst of his very own battle. 

He only had to make sure that Victor knew that he was not alone.

The sickbay was half empty as Yuuri entered. Most crewmembers had been stitched up by Christophe and his staff and had returned to their posts. Minami, however, was still there. As Yuuri approached his corner in the sickbay, pushing the curtains aside, he braced himself mentally for the terrifying yet fascinating sight of hands forming anew inside blue liquid. But the basin with the liquid was gone. Instead, Minami was lying in bed, his face still reddened from the pain. A cushion had been placed on his stomach, and on them, a pair of newly grown hands rested, enclosed in translucent plastic bags that were filled with a clear liquid. Only a red line surrounding Minami’s wrists showed that these hands were regrown ones. 

Modern medicine was a miracle, Yuuri thought.

“Hello there,” Yuuri said softly and sat down beside Minami, who had opened his eyes upon hearing him approach. 

The other Japanese man smiled at his sight, his large eyes filling with tears. “Katsuki-sama,” he breathed. 

Yuuri blushed. “Call me Yuuri, please,” he murmured, switching to Japanese, like Minami. “No need for honorifics like that.”

“But it’s always an honour to talk to you, Katsuki-san,” Minami insisted. “I read all of your stuff. I have so many questions that I still want to ask-”

“I’ll answer them all once you feel better, Minami-kun,” Yuuri promised and patted his shoulder gently in an attempt to calm the poor boy down. “Does it still hurt?” He asked, nodding at Minami’s hands.

Minami shook his head. “It only tickles,” he replied, looking down at the plastic bags around his hands. “Dr. Giacometti said that this stuff will stimulate the nerve endings and soothe them at the same time, and help the skin to… I don’t know, he used that fancy word... “ He trailed off, sighing deeply. “I’ve never been in pain like that before. But knowing that even the Captain went through this…” He looked at Yuuri, studying him curiously. “He’s really nice. I didn’t think our Captain would be that nice.”

Yuuri hummed in agreement. “I didn’t think that either,” he said, shifting a little on his chair. “But then again, everyone here is nice. Even Yuri Plisetsky. What was he like, in the engine room?”

Minami chuckled a little, and Yuuri had never been happier to hear a sound like that. Laughter was a beautiful thing. “He was… decent. I don’t know what happened when I wasn’t there, though, but I think he gets along with Otabek well. Very well, if you know what I mean.”

Yuuri blinked in surprise, and he was about to inquire further as Minami looked at him again. But this time, with worry in his eyes. 

“I can’t go there anymore, Katsuki-kun,” he said quietly, biting his lip. “I just…. I can’t go down there again, not after this. I don’t want something like that to happen again, I just can’t. Please, let me work with you! I studied alien languages just like you, and I speak seventeen earth languages and I-”

“Minami-kun,” Yuuri interrupted him calmly, touching his arm. Minami stopped talking, looking at Yuuri anxiously. “You… you know that I can’t decide this.”

“But you can ask the Captain!” Minami breathed. “Please, Katsuki-kun, ask him to make me your intern! I won’t be a bother, I promise! I can’t work on those engines anymore, I-”

“I will ask Victor,” Yuuri promised and touched the other man’s arm soothingly. “I can’t promise that he will say yes, but I’ll tell him. He won’t think any less of you for being afraid, I can assure you that. I… I will ask him if you can work with me, and perhaps with Commander Lee. He’s doing linguistic work, too, and I’m sure he could use a helping hand.”

Minami’s expression slowly changed from desperation to relief and gratitude, and Yuuri was sure that if Minami had been able to move, he would have hugged him on the spot. Instead, Minami whispered a thank you and closed his eyes, as if talking had exhausted him terribly. Which it probably had

Yuuri glanced at the clock on the wall, wondering if the meeting between Victor, Commander Lee, and Otabek Altin would come to an end soon as Minami spoke again. His voice was quiet and gentle.

“I want to go home.”

Yuuri couldn’t agree more.

…..

He left Minami in the care of Christophe and Yuuko and walked out of sickbay with a heavy heart. Of course he was glad that Minami was feeling better - and really, Chris had performed a miracle by growing him new hands. But Minami had said out loud what most people seemed to think at the moment. What Yuuri had been thinking in secret already, but would have never dared to admit in front of Victor.

He wanted to go home.

And right now, there was a definite proof that going to space had been a terrible, very terrible idea.

On the other hand, however, Yuuri knew that he couldn’t leave, even if there had been a way to escape this hellhole. Victor needed him. Yuuri would never forget the horror on his lover’s beautiful face, the fear in his eyes and the desperation in his voice as he had clung to Yuuri while he wept. There was still a lot that Yuuri did not know, but for some reason, Victor had decided to trust him. And that meant the world to Yuuri.

If he wanted to help him, however, he would need the help of those that Victor trusted the most.

And so, he stopped in his tracks and turned around, heading back to the sickbay to look for the only person available at the moment that knew Victor better than anyone else on this ship.

Christophe Giacometti.

Their Chief Medical Officer was standing by the door to his office as Yuuri came in again, his reading glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose as he flipped through the pages of the digital file in his hands. After patching up patient after patient, this was most likely the first moment of peace that he got after their crash, but Yuuri could not wait. Victor could not wait.

“Chris?”

The doctor looked up immediately as Yuuri called him by his first name, looking at him in surprise as he lowered the file and studied Yuuri from head to toe. Yuuri came to stand in front of him, nervously fidgeting with his hands. 

“Do you have a minute to talk about Victor?” He asked.

The look on Chris’ face changed immediately from curiosity to genuine concern, and he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Come,” he said, touching the computer panel to his left to get into his office. Yuuri followed him inside, taking a seat on the sofa that Chris was gesturing at. The last time he had been in this room, they had talked about Yuuri’s space anxiety. Like Victor, Chris had not laughed at him, but had called him a sensible human being. 

Just as he thought that Chris would sit down as well, the other man approached the replicator and got Yuuri a glass of what seemed to be an alcoholic beverage.

“You look like death himself,” Chris said as he put the small glass into Yuuri’s hands. “Drink this for your nerves. And then tell me about Victor.”

Yuuri decided it was best not to argue with Chris in this situation, and he emptied the small glass in one go. Whatever it was tasted bitter and left a sharp burning sensation in his throat, but it worked its wonders the moment it went down his throat. 

For the first time since the crash, Yuuri felt able to breathe again.

“Good lord,” he murmured and put the glass down. 

“You already look better,” Chris said, clasping his hands. “Now how can I help you with Victor?”

Yuuri took a deep breath, not sure how to begin. He did not want to betray Victor’s trust - no, he wanted to hear everything that there was from Victor personally. He was not here to dig around in his past behind his back. 

“I was wondering if you could help me at helping him,” Yuuri said eventually, meeting Chris’ gaze anxiously. “He isn’t in a good place at the moment.”

Chris looked at Yuuri for a long moment, as if he were debating with himself whether to answer him or not. “He’s had a panic attack, hasn’t he?”

Yuuri did not even ask why Chris knew that.

Chris was one of Victor’s best friends. Just like Commander Lee and Otabek Altin.

They knew him so much better than Yuuri did. And yet, Victor had allowed Yuuri to see him like that.

“Yes,” Yuuri murmured. “But that isn’t what shocked me. It was what he said to me, what he… what he referred to. He was talking about things happening all over again, and I can only assume that he is talking about his last mission as a First Officer. I’m not asking you to tell me about it, Chris, I really am not. I just want to know if you have any advice for… for helping him whenever he feels haunted by his past.”

Chris said nothing for a long moment. Instead, he got up and went back to the replicator by the wall, getting himself a large cup of coffee which he sipped slowly. He seemed lost in his thoughts, and Yuuri braced himself for the worst, but as Chris spoke again, his voice was full of warmth. 

“You are a remarkable young man, Yuuri,” he said as he returned to the sofa. “You see… Victor has been struggling with these things for a long time now. Not even I know what to do whenever these things catch up to him. Sometimes he’s in a state where you can talk to him easily, but other times he’s so… lost that not even a hug or kiss, nor a kind word, can pull him out of his misery. I’ve found that it helps him the most if one just…. Sits there and waits with him for the pain to pass. He’s a sad and very lonely man, Yuuri.” Then he paused. “Well, perhaps not anymore, since he’s got you now.” He smiled softly as Yuuri blushed furiously. “What, did you think you could fool anyone around here? We’ve all seen how Victor looks at you. Or how you look at him. Congratulations, by the way.” Chris took another sip from his coffee before he continued. “Victor may be a talkative person and sociable, but when it comes to himself, he finds it hard to open up. My advice for you is therefore to simply give him the time and space that he needs. Sooner or later he will tell you everything. Until then, make sure that the fool knows that he’s loved and cared for.”

Of all the things Yuuri had expected to hear from Chris - perhaps a warning, or even a lecture to not ask him such things - it certainly had not been that. 

“It’s better for both of you if he tells you about his demons himself,” Chris continued. “But I’m… glad that you don’t think that he’s weak or something like that because he had a panic attack. He really isn’t.”

Yuuri blinked. “Well, I… to be honest, in a situation like this I feel quite close to a panic attack myself,” he admitted, earning an understanding smile from Chris. “I feel honoured that he trusts me enough to let me see that side of him. God knows I have one like that myself,” he muttered.

Chris emptied his cup of coffee and got up to stretch, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. “I believe we all have a side like that, that we hardly show anyone,” he said as he put on his glasses again. “But you see, chéri, the fact that Victor lets you in is a proof of his love. If I know one thing about Victor Nikiforov then it’s that if he loves, he loves deeply and fiercely. You’re a lucky man, Yuuri.”

A beep coming from the computer interrupted their conversation. “All crew members are to return to their respective posts,” the computer chirped. 

“That’s an order, I guess,” Chris said and Yuuri got up as well. Only then he realised that he was still wearing the clothes he’d been wearing when he’d been about to get busy with Victor in his room. Perhaps he should go and change into something more suitable first. 

“Thank you, Chris,” Yuuri said softly and bowed in the manner of his people to the other man. “I really appreciate your help.”

“Hmm, no problem, chéri,” Chris said. “Victor is a lucky man. To get such a cute and understanding partner.”

Yuuri turned a dark red, but Chris said nothing more as they left his office together and their ways parted. Yuuri went to check on Minami once more, but the boy had drifted off to sleep for now. Perhaps it was for the best.

….

When he returned to the bridge, dressed in his uniform and with combed hair for a change, Victor was not there. But Commander Lee had already returned to his post, greeting Yuuri with a nod as he entered. Yuuri returned the greeting with a small bow before he moved to sit down at his computer. Working on translations was the last thing on his mind now. He turned his chair around, letting his eyes wander over the panels of the bridge and the people working on them.

Next, Yuri Plisetsky came in, and the Russian went to his seat without another word. It was probably the first time Yuuri did not hear him swear or mutter an obscenity upon entering the bridge, but really, who could blame him for not being entirely himself in a situation like that?

“Are the star maps scanned and ready, Ensign?” Seung-Gil asked from the captain’s seat. Yuuri noticed that the First Officer was nervously drumming on the armrests with his fingers. 

Yuri nodded. “Scanned and ready for transmission, Commander,” he murmured. 

“Good.” Seung-Gil took a few deep breaths, glancing at the clock nervously. Yuuri understood why. 

Victor was running late.

However, the doors of the turbolift opened and Victor entered the bridge merely moments before Yuuri would have tried to call him on a private channel. Just like Yuuri, he had changed into his uniform again, although his hair was still a little messy. But he looked better than Yuuri had expected. 

Calmer. Composed.

“Thank you, Commander,” he said to Seung-Gil, who rose from the captain’s seat and returned to his own next to Yuri. Victor sat down and took a deep breath. “Lieutenant Katsuki, open all channels for a ship-wide transmission. In sound and vision.”

Yuuri’s heart ached at the formality of his tone, but he had to pull himself together. They were at work. Personal feelings did not belong there.

“Yes, Captain,” Yuuri replied and turned his chair around, manually selecting all channels for a ship-wide transmission for whatever it was that Victor had to tell his crew.

“Captain,” Yuri asked with hesitation. “Is Otabek still at sickbay?”

“He is, Ensign,” Victor replied calmly. “No worries. I told him to rest and Dr. Giacometti to make sure he stays there.”

Everyone on this ship knew damn well that Otabek Altin would certainly not go and rest in a situation like this, but the answer seemed to be sufficient to Yuri. The pilot nodded and turned around again, focusing on his task of keeping the ship steady.

“All channels are ready, Captain,” Yuuri said when he was done. 

What the hell was going on?

“Good, thank you,” Victor said and shifted on his chair, clearing his throat before pressing the button on his armrest to start the transmission.

“This is Captain Nikiforov with a message to everyone aboard,” he said, and Yuuri heard how he tried to keep his voice steady. “There has been an incident with our engines. As most of you are aware, the type of engine used on the USS Agape is the first of his kind. Unfortunately, as our Chief Engineer has just informed me, Starfleet has failed to ensure the validity and purity of the parts used to build it. The singularities inside the engine have collided and created a wormhole, which has thrown us across the galaxy.” He nodded at Yuuri, who started the visual transmission of the star maps that Yuri had uploaded to the system earlier. “Right now, we are floating in a part of the galaxy that no ship of Starfleet has ever entered before,” Victor continued. “As your captain, it is my duty to inform you about everything that is happening on this ship, and I will not lie to you in order to protect you.” He took a deep breath. “Our warp core is destroyed. Even if it were functioning, it would take us several decades to get back home.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened and he spun around on his chair. He was not the only one. Other crew members had turned around to look at Victor as well, the horror clear in their faces.

Victor’s face, however, was expressionless. “Right now, we are looking for a solution to fix our warp core,” he said. “As your captain, it is my duty to ensure your safety and wellbeing, and I intend to keep this promise that I made to you as my crew and as my family the day I accepted this post.” His eyes met Yuuri’s, and for the first time, Yuuri could see the man that the media had been speaking and writing about. For the first time, he saw the fearless captain, the genius that he was. “I will take us home, no matter the cost,” Victor said, keeping his eyes fixed on Yuuri. “That is my promise to you as your captain. We will take this ship back to Earth, and we will hold Starfleet accountable for this. You have my word. Thank you.”

Victor let go of the button and the transmission ended. The moment the channels went quiet, the young captain sank back into his seat and closed his eyes. 

Yuuri jumped from his seat and closed the few metres of distance between them, pulling Victor into his arms. His lover immediately responded, holding onto him for dear life, and neither of them cared that they were in public, that this was hardly the right time nor the right place for public displays of affection. They truly could not have cared less. 

“You’re the bravest man I know, Victor,” Yuuri whispered into his ear. “I know that you will take us home. I just know it.”

“At least one of us does,” Victor breathed and pulled away, cupping Yuuri’s cheeks gently. Yuuri smiled softly, touching Victor’s hand and intertwining their fingers. 

“I’ll always believe in you, Victor,” he said and leant in to kiss him. It was only a little peck on the lips, brief and gentle, but it was enough for now. Enough for Victor to know that he was not alone, Yuuri hoped.

“Gross,” Yuri muttered from his seat and shook his head at their sight. But he was the only one to make a comment. The others pretended not to see, but Yuuri was sure that Seung-Gil was smiling as he let go of Victor again and returned to his seat. 

They would find a way to get home, Yuuri told himself. And this time, Victor was not alone. This time, he would not have to save hundreds of lives single-handedly. He had a crew that trusted him, and friends that loved and supported him no matter what.

Yuuri looked over his shoulder at Victor, who was rubbing his neck while speaking quietly to Seung-Gil. 

No, Victor was not alone this time. 

And Yuuri was determined to make sure that Victor knew.   
  



	9. Lost in Fucking Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back!  
> Theangryuniverse here: Once more we had far too much fun writing this - for every couple in this story there are ups and downs, it seems, but they're all getting there. Eventually. 
> 
> And could it be that Seung-Gil has taken a liking to a certain bartender...? ;)

As a child, Yuuri had always hidden in the closet in the old banquet room whenever the world became too loud around him.

In that closet, it had been blissfully quiet. The storm inside his head would settle, the ringing in his ears would stop, and he would find himself able to breathe again. The darkness would soothe his nerves and help him to focus again, enabling him to face yet another day, another obstacle to be overcome. When he had been still little, his parents and his sister had always laughed about his habit of hiding in a closet.

But as he got older, and it didn’t get better, his mother took him to a therapist in town.

His therapist had been a very nice woman, offering him bonbons and talking to him as if he were an adult. He would show her his drawings, pictures of the things he would see in his head whenever everything became too much. With her help, he finally found the words to describe his feelings in such situations. She never laughed at him whenever he used an unusual word for it, and neither did she pressure him into talking when he found himself unable to say anything. 

Eventually, she had told him and his parents that he was anything but weird. That he, Yuuri Katsuki, was merely one of millions of people that suffered from anxiety. She showed him techniques to deal with it, encouraging him to write a diary and to choose one or two friends to talk about these things. And when he did, Yuuri found that other people worried about things, too. 

Since then, Yuuri had accepted his anxiety as a part of him. It would never go away, but he would not allow it to keep him from living. And so, he had swallowed his anxiety the day he had applied for Starfleet Academy, and had fought his way up ever since. 

Yuuko had once called his anxiety as a sign that he was someone who was not weak, but who cared too much. That he was someone who had high standards for himself.

But sometimes, there was just no time to be anxious. 

And so, Yuuri found himself standing next to Victor, arms crossed as he looked out of the viewscreen, studying the stars that no human had ever seen before. 

Space was still terrifying. But there was no time to worry about that now.

“Do you think someone is out there?” He asked Victor quietly, who was watching the stars as well.

Victor shrugged. “Who knows. I wouldn’t dare to say that there’s nothing. Some forms of life must be out there. But this part of the galaxy could also be empty.” He sighed. “That’s what missions like ours are for. Discovering new planets. New life forms. New civilisations.”

“Are you quoting that tv series from the 20th century?” Yuuri asked with a small smile.

Victor chuckled sadly. “Maybe.” He took Yuuri’s hand into his, and Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat. He was still not used to showing affection like this in front of everyone, but he didn’t mind. And the others didn’t seem to care. 

In times like these, what did it matter what others thought of them?

“Captain.”

Seung-Gil had approached them, his hands clasped on his back in his usual manner. 

“Your shift has ended thirty minutes ago,” Seung-Gil said. “It is my duty to remind you to rest. The same goes for Lieutenant Katsuki and Ensign Plisetsky.”

Yuuri glanced at their young pilot, who indeed struggled to keep his eyes open as he focused on the screen in front of him. 

“We’ll manage,” Seung-Gil said before Victor could even open his mouth. “Go and rest.”

Yuuri squeezed Victor’s hand. “He is right,” he said. “We should get something to eat and then sleep.”

Victor sighed and rubbed his face, but seemed too tired to argue with his First Officer. Yuuri let go of his hand as Victor rose from his chair and stretched, his blue eyes wandering over the crew of the bridge once more. 

“Ensign,” he said to Yuri, who turned around slowly on his chair. “Your shift is over. Go and rest. That’s an order.”

Much to Yuuri’s surprise, the Russian got up without another word and headed towards the turbolift. Yuuri knew that he would most likely not go to his room, but to Otabek Altin instead. Something was blossoming between these two, Victor had told him a while ago. Perhaps it was for the best, Yuuri thought as he went to his own workplace to shut down the computer for now. Everyone needed someone to lean on in times like these.

Victor was waiting for him by the turbolift, holding the door open for him. They stepped inside, waiting for the doors to close before instinctively reaching for the other. Yuuri buried his face in Victor’s chest, sighing deeply as he felt Victor nuzzle his hair. They were exhausted, both mentally and physically, with only the presence of the other to soothe them. 

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asked softly.

“Yes. Stay with me tonight,” Victor whispered. “Please.”

“I will,” Yuuri replied quietly, holding Victor a little closer. “I won’t leave you alone.”

Victor made a noise that sounded like a sob, but as Yuuri looked up, he saw that Victor was not crying. Instead, there was a small smile on the other man’s lips, as if he were about to make a witty remark, but no such thing came. Victor’s hand cupped Yuuri’s cheek gently, his thumb brushing over his cheekbone. 

The doors of the turbolift opened once more as they reached Victor’s quarters, and Yuuri took his hand, unwilling to ever let go again. 

Their night had started to well in these rooms. Only to turn into an absolute nightmare.

Their clothing lay forgotten on the floor next to the couch, exactly where they had left it. The pictures that covered almost every single surface of Victor’s little apartment had fallen over, but miraculously, no glass had burst. The plants on the window sill lay scattered across the floor, dirt staining the carpet. 

Yuuri went to pick up their clothing while Victor took care of the plants, putting them back into their pots and cleaning up the dirt. Neither of them spoke as they worked, the act of bringing everything into order again feeling like a cleansing process. 

“I’m glad I didn’t bring Makkachin with me,” Victor said after a while as he put up the pictures again. Yuuri looked up, finding him standing by the bookshelf with a photograph of his dog in his hands. “He would be so scared.”

Yuuri put the cushions down on the sofa and went to join Victor, putting his hand on his back in a gentle gesture. “My dog died a while ago,” he murmured. “But Vicchan would have hidden under the furniture in a situation like this. Only a treat would have convinced him to come out…” He smiled sadly as he thought of his dog, and realised once more how much he missed the little ball of fur.

Victor wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer. “Your Vicchan sounds like my Makkachin in many ways,” he said and kissed Yuuri’s hair. “But at least he’s safe now. Living with my parents…” Yuuri felt Victor tense up a little, but before he could say anything Victor continued: “They will get the news that the ship has disappeared in probably three days. That’s the protocol. Three days without news from a ship result in an emergency alert. We’ll be declared missing after thirty days. And then…” He trailed off, but Yuuri did not need him to finish the sentence. He knew the protocol just as well as Victor. “If we can’t make it back, our families will never know what happened to us,” Victor said quietly. “And they will blame me.”

Yuuri grasped Victor’s hand firmly. “We will make it back, Victor, do you hear me?” He said, turning around in Victor’s arms to face him. “And we’ll see our families again. No one will blame you. If someone’s guilty, then it’s Starfleet for using cheap parts for an engine that dangerous. And we’ll make them pay for it.” He stood on his toes to press a gentle kiss to Victor’s lips in an attempt to soothe him. It seemed to work, at least a little bit. 

Victor exhaled deeply and held Yuuri close against his chest. “I know we should sleep,” he murmured. “But… I think that we should talk first.”

Yuuri frowned and pulled back a little at the sudden change in Victor’s voice. 

“I want to tell you the truth about me, Yuuri,” Victor said, and Yuuri could hear that he was struggling to keep his voice steady. “I want… I want you to know everything that happened to me and… and not just bits and pieces, so-”

“Victor,” Yuuri interrupted him softly and cupped his cheeks to shut him up. And much to his surprise, Victor stopped talking. “I… I feel honoured that you want to share this with me. But I think it might be best if we do this in a setting in which you feel comfortable. Maybe in one of your sessions with Phichit. I know that you’re seeing him,” he added as Victor opened his mouth. “You’ve had the appointments right before mine. I’ve seen you leave his office. And… and I think it would be best if we talked about this with him. Don’t get me wrong, I really want to know of your past and I feel honoured that you trust me with this-”

“No, no, you’re right,” Victor agreed and nodded quickly. “We… we should talk about it with Phichit. That’s a good idea.”

“Good.” Yuuri kissed him gently on the lips and then took his hands. “And now we should sleep.”

* * *

Maya wasn’t used to this gut-wrenching fear that gripped her, but all of this was all her fault. Literally. Everything. She tried not to think about it, as she poured out a cup of coffee, but it was practically impossible. They were dark thoughts, but they overshadowed her, and she couldn’t  _ let them go _ . 

Otabek recognized the look on her face, she knew. And that was because  _ she _ knew the look on his face. 

Sometimes it sucked, being a twin. Most of the time it was fucking awesome, but sometimes it was like this-- when you were trying to hide something that you could absolutely  _ never _ fucking hide from the other. 

Because the two of them were open books.

To his credit though, Otabek said nothing, reaching out and pressing his fingers around the mug. It was cold in the lounge, colder than usual. Despite the crew fixing most of the ship, there were still systems that were left for last, having been deemed non-essential. Systems like central heating. 

Otabek downed nearly have the cup, and she held her hand out. “Take it easy, tiger. I know you miss your caffeine, but don’t make yourself sick.”

They were empty words though, and Otabek only rolled his eyes, downing the rest of the cup. And then he waited for a refill. Maya frowned, pouring more from the carafe. 

“How’s the side?” she finally asked. 

“Hurts like a bitch, but Chris said the stitches will be removed soon.” 

Maya hummed at that. “You know, for  _ hurting like a bitch _ , you certainly haven’t let that stop you from you know--” She paused, wiggling her hands around. 

Otabek narrowed his eyes at her and said, “Maya, I’m not a fucking mind reader. What on earth are you talking about?”

“ _ You know _ ,” she said, wiggling her hands again. “A certain Russian tiger--”

“ _ Maya! _ ”

“--Named Yuri.” She smirked at him smugly. “Don’t think that I haven’t seen you two literally attached at the hip.” Otabek didn’t respond, only dragged a hand down his face tiredly. “I mean really, you aren’t exactly  _ subtle _ about it--”

“There’s nothing to be subtle about.” But his tone was defeated before the words had even begun. 

“You know Beka, if you try any harder to deny it, I might actually think that it’s true. And you and I both know--”

“You know what? I’m tired of talking about it,” Otabek sighed. “I’m tired of thinking about it, and I’m tired of you using it as a reason to  _ deflect _ whatever it is that is bothering you.” 

Maya couldn’t help the immediate frown that pulled at her lips. “That’s not fair,” she finally said. “ _ That isn’t fair-- _ ”

“You know what’s not fair? Being stuck out here, fucking  _ lost in space _ ,” he snapped. “It’s not fair to me, or to anyone on this fucking ship.”

“You designed it,” she replied, her voice dripping with venom. “You--”

“But  _ you _ gave it to them, Maya!” he spat right back, his knuckles so tight around his mug, that they were white. 

Otabek was so rarely angry, that Maya never really knew how to deal with it. Usually she would brush it off with a smirk, say something witty and then they would both just get over it. But there wasn’t any getting over this. This was the big fucking elephant in the room, and the worst part was that she  _ couldn’t fix it _ . 

And this wasn’t just some stupid fear, over something that would be eventually fixed. This was an earth-shattering, bone-deep fear, because  _ no one fucking knew _ what would happen. They were just floating around in limbo, scraping together bare ideas of things that might help. 

“You think that I don’t know that?” she finally said quietly. She wouldn’t cry, she  _ never _ cried. Maya could literally count on her hand, the number of times she had actually shed tears. 

When their grandfather had died, when she had flunked out of the academy, and the first time Otabek had yelled at her for this  _ exact same thing _ . He hadn’t talked to her for an entire month, and it was like the ground had swallowed her up, and she barely existed, because Otabek was her other half. Without him, she was nothing. 

“You think that I haven’t fucking thought about it, the  _ moment _ Starfleet whisked you away? The moment that first ship blew up during testing? Or when Yuri told me about all the issues down in Engineering?” Her fingers gripped the countertop tightly, and she continued, rambling on in a very un-like Maya way. “How about when the ship did a fucking one-eighty, tossing around as we went into red alert? Do you think I wasn’t thinking about it then?” 

Finally, she loosened her grip and sighed, rubbing at her face, unable to properly look at him. She couldn’t stand the judgement that he wore like a carefully placed mask. “I’ve thought about it from the moment that I stepped foot on this goddamn ship, Beka. Why the fuck do you think I  _ requested _ this posting?”

Maya wasn’t sure how her brother would react, but the next thing he said definitely wasn’t it. “We both carry this burden then,” he said quietly. She finally looked at him, and saw it, the weariness that had settled across his shoulders. “How ironic,” he continued, smiling sarcastically. “Twins in everything, even our fuck ups.”

Maya laughed, just a stupid little snort. It wasn’t because she found it funny, it was because she laughed when she was nervous, when she had no idea how to respond. And Otabek knew that, because he reached out and took her hand into his. She couldn’t remember the last time that he had done this, but she relaxed into the touch, as he rubbed his thumb along her knuckles. 

And then her vision blurred, and she felt the tears start to slip, and she felt stupid and selfish, and like there was nothing that she could ever do to right this wrong. Otabek didn’t say anything, stroking her skin softly as she just cried and cried and  _ cried. _

Finally the tears dried up, leaving her eyes red-ringed and blurred, and Otabek just squeezed her hand as she hiccuped lightly. “God I’m so stupid,” she finally muttered, pulling away to wipe at her face. “I’m so--”

“Maya, you aren’t stupid,” her brother said. “And I  _ know _ that all you were trying to do, was help me. The thought  _ is _ appreciated, despite everything.”

At that, Maya let out a bitter laugh. “I know for a fact that isn’t fucking true.”

Otabek reached out for the carafe, topping off his now cold coffee. “This wasn’t what our parents wanted for us,” he said quietly. 

_ Ain’t that the fucking truth,  _ Maya instantly thought. Their father was a famous doctor, and had wanted both of them to follow in his footsteps. Instead, Otabek had grown to love grease and engines, and Maya had come to love the stars.

“I’ll never forget, Father’s face when you told him that you had applied for that Scholarship.” To say the least, their father hadn’t been happy about it. 

“You know, if he had just  _ paid _ for Engineering school, we wouldn’t even fucking  _ be _ here. Then he and  Mother wouldn’t have constantly fought about it.”

They both fell into a silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It stretched serenely between the two of them, and Otabek sipped at his coffee. 

“Then you  _ won _ the stupid thing,” Maya said with a gentle smile. “And then suddenly you were whisked off into Starfleet.”

“He could have had the decency to be  _ proud _ ,” Otabek grumbled. “I was the first to even qualify in nearly a decade.”

“‘At least I still have you, Maya,’ he said gruffly,” she smirked. “And then you know, he found me packing my bags as well, because I had already enrolled, knowing that you’d win the stupid thing.”

Otabek let out a low chuckle, before they fell silent again. “Really Maya,” he finally said, “I appreciate everything you do.”

“Even getting us thrown into the furthest reaches of space?”

Otabek hummed thoughtfully. “Not that particularly, but there are other things that have come from it.”

“ _ Oh _ ,” she breathed. “Things like Yuri.”

Otabek didn’t even blink this time, knowing that it was useless to fight it, and she smiled back. A real, genuine smile, because she was  _ happy _ for him. Because three months ago, she would have thought he’d be single and alone well into his old age. That’s just what her brother was like. Yuri had done something to him-- not changed him per se, but  _ awakened _ him somehow, and it was a welcome change. 

At first it had been entertaining to say the least, and then her brother had shown up on her doorstep in the wee hours of the morning, midway into a personal crisis. 

“Speaking of Father, have you thought about what to  _ tell _ our dear parents about Yuri?”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Otabek said immediately. “I mean, there’s not--” He paused briefly. “We’re not--” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “As far as I know, this is one sided.”

Maya’s brow shot sky high on her face. “You and I both know that’s a fucking lie.”

“ _ Even so _ \--”

“I guess that’s a hurdle to jump when we get there. I guess there’s way more important things to figure out first.”

“Yeah, like how to fuck I’m going to get us home.”

“I was thinking more like when the fuck you were finally going to kiss him, and how,” Maya said smoothly, and the dark glare that her brother shot her was  _ well _ worth it. 

Otabek and been about to retort, when the doors opened and Yuri stuck his head around the corner of the lounge. He sagged in relief, as he stepped through the doorway fully. “Thank God,” he muttered, half nervous, half annoyed. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. We need to go up to the bridge and start those long range scans. I--” Yuri paused, finally noticing Maya, his eyes washing over her red and swollen face. And then he gaped. Maya wasn’t surprised. She didn’t seem the type to get emotional. 

“Are you okay? Did Beka do something to you or--”

“I’m fine,” Maya assured him. “And it’s nothing  _ Beka _ did.” It was the same nickname she used with him, but when it tumbled from Yuri’s mouth, it seemed far more intimate. She turned to Otabek, only to find him fiddling with his collar slightly as he tried to play it cool. Her lips curved into a crooked grin, amused. It was rare to see her brother so ruffled, and it was  _ always _ when Yuri was involved. 

Yuri regarded her for a long moment, through a narrow-eyed and shrewd gaze, before finally shrugging. He plopped onto the stool next to her brother and motioned for some coffee.

“Wasn’t there something you were supposed to do?” she teased, but grabbed a mug nonetheless. 

“Don’t harp on me,” Yuri snapped, taking the drink and wrapped his fingers around the cup. “If you think it’s cold down here, you better see what it’s like up on the bridge.”

“Or Engineering,” she said smartly. “I bet it gets pretty hot down there when the mood is right.” Otabek and Yuri both turned red at the idea, and Maya managed a tiny little laugh. 

Her brother coughed uncomfortably and then said, “Yuri, you said something about long-range scanning?”

It took a moment for the pilot to recover as well, but he didn’t waste the opportunity to shoot her the nastiest glare that he could manage. But as soon as he did, it was gone, and he had swiveled around to face Otabek. “You said something about long range scans the other day, though I doubt you remember. You were kind of stoned out of your mind.”

Ah yes, Otabek high on painkillers. That had been fucking hilarious. Maya had told Yuri to go see him for such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, because it had been too good to pass up. Otabek refused to give her the details, but she was fairly sure that he hadn’t professed his intentions with Yuri. Yet.

Damn shame. 

“Anyway,” Yuri continued, “I talked to the Captain--”

Otabek started at that. “ _ What-- _ ”

“And he approved time on the bridge,” Yuri finished with, annoyed he’d been interrupted. “We both thought it’d be better to do it during graveyard, so we have the bridge to ourselves.”

At that, Maya perked up. “Oh? To yourselves? As in,  _ all to yourselves _ ?”

“To  _ work _ ,” Otabek snapped, but Maya was already smirking at him.

“What fun is work, if there’s no play?” Yuri, who had been sipping his coffee, nearly spat out his drink. Her brother just gaped at her. He was used to her teasing, but no doubt not used to her being so  _ fucking blunt about it _ . Maya felt a little bit proud of herself. “You know,” she continued, “When you came to me for advice, I--”

“ _ Maya-- _ ”

“ _ Shut up you hag _ \--”

And then they both stopped and looked at each other. Yuri floundered, unable to find words, and Otabek turned red in embarrassment. Maya smiled, pretty fucking pleased about her stupid little trap. She took the carafe and topped of their mugs. “And with that, I leave you boys. Have fun with your long-range scanning.”

All she heard in return was a frustrated grunt from her brother, and Yuri cursing her profusely as he flipped her off. 

* * *

The USS Agape was floating safely, not going anywhere - and Seung-Gil Lee had just left the bridge and headed straight for  _ Dark Matter _ . After being awake for almost a day, he desperately needed a drink. And on the USS Agape, there was only one person that could pour him the kind of alcohol appropriate for such a situation.

But as Seung-Gil entered the lounge and approached the bar, Maya was not there. Instead, she sat at a table by the window, a glass and a bottle of what seemed to be extremely expensive whiskey in front of her. That by itself was not an unusual sight - Maya was known for enjoying a drink every now and then like everyone else. But the look on her face was one that shook Seung-Gil to the core. It was one of pure desperation, the face of a person that had lost all hope. 

“Help yourself,” she murmured without looking up from her drink. “You know where the wine is.”

Seung-Gil looked at her for a long moment, not sure whether she was serious or not - after all, her bar was sacred to her, and she would never, ever allow anyone to touch what was hers. But as she didn’t move, Seung-Gil did as he was told and went behind the bar, grabbing a glass and a random bottle of wine before joining her at the window.

Maya looked at him briefly as he poured himself a glass, then studied the label. “Congrats, you found the really good stuff,” she murmured before taking another sip from her whiskey. “You can keep the bottle. Doesn’t matter now anyway. Nothing matters anymore.”

Seung-Gil had never seen Maya like that before - and he was one of the few on board that could claim to have seen her in many different situations. He had met her for the first time at the Academy, when she had come to pick up a completely drunk Otabek from a party. She could scare men and their unwanted attention away with a single glare, and she had always protected Otabek from gossip like a lioness that protected her cubs. She always had a smile on her face, a witty remark on her lips, and she carried herself with the confidence of a mediocre white man. Maya was a force of nature, never to be underestimated.

And now she sat in front of him, her face pale and her eyes red and swollen from crying.

“We’re in a shitty situation, indeed,” Seung-Gil murmured and took a sip from the wine. She was right. It was the good one she had always hidden from everyone. But he found that he was unable to enjoy it. Instead, he took several large gulps at once and refilled his glass immediately. 

“Wow,” Maya laughed dryly. “I’ve heard Seung-Gil Lee say a bad word. The world has indeed ended.”

“Not exactly the end of the world,” he replied, glancing out of the window at the unknown stars. “But literally the other end of the galaxy.”

“Yep,” Maya murmured, emptying her glass and refilling it again, the amber liquid sparkling in the light of the lamp above them. “And this is all my fault. I just… I just wanted to help Otabek and make sure that people knew about his genius and…” She swallowed thickly, and Seung-Gil believed to hear her voice shake as she continued. “Now we’re stuck here just because I didn’t respect his life choices. Just because I grabbed those blueprints and gave them to Starfleet we’re fucking lost.” Maya grabbed the glass tightly, taking a large sip of the whiskey that surely had to burn in her throat, but Seung-Gil suspected that Maya was already well beyond the point of caring about things like that. “I can’t do anything right, it seems,” she muttered. “I’m a complete failure.”

Seung-Gil had witnessed similar breakdowns before. Usually, the person to have a breakdown had been Victor, and he had always sat next to him and had patiently waited for him to calm down. As for most of the time, Victor’s breakdowns had been based on break-ups or whenever he had forgotten to cuddle his dog before lunch. 

But Maya’s breakdown was real, and she was hopeless, and she had chosen him, of all people, to pour her heart out to. 

“This situation might seem hopeless now,” Seung-Gil began carefully. “But I know that Otabek and Victor are working on something. We’ll find a way.”

“But what if we can’t find a way, Seung-Gil?” Maya asked in a broken voice, finally meeting his gaze. It was one of pure desperation. “What if we’re stuck here forever, what if we’ll never find a way home, what if we’ll never find a solution to make this engine work again and all of this is my fault and-”

“Maya.” Seung-Gil put his glass down and reached across the table, touching her arm to stop her from rambling. Usually, he would never do such a thing. But wine, especially good and strong wine like this one, had its perks. 

Maya swallowed thickly, looking at him with wide eyes.

“None of this is your fault,” he said. “You took the blueprints to Starfleet because you knew what a genius Otabek was. And you wanted others to know it too. Hell, Maya, you studied astrophysics at the Academy. You know potential when you see it.”

When Maya had left the Academy, Seung-Gil had not understood her reasons. He had seen her work, and only a fool would underestimate her and see her as only a woman with a bar. But Maya was just as smart as Otabek. And just as dangerous.

“You remembered?” Maya asked quietly. 

Seung-Gil huffed, taking another sip from his glass of wine. “Do you really think that Otabek would ever shut up about you? He made sure that everyone knew that you were just as talented as him. He even claimed that you’re smarter than him.”

At that, Maya smiled a little, as if she had just expected something like that coming from her twin brother. 

“And when you left the Academy to fulfil your dream and work in a bar, Otabek was furious. He talked about wasted talent but…” Seung-Gil shrugged, looking down at the wine in his hands. “It was always my view that one should do what makes one happy. There is no such thing as wasted talent then. No matter if you study astrophysics, run a bar, or become a painter.”

Maya sighed, swirling the whiskey in her glass. “Yeah, right. That’s rich coming from someone who did what he wanted to do and was gifted at all along.”

Seung-Gil raised an eyebrow. “Why do you think I am older than Victor, despite starting at the Academy at the same time?” He asked. Maya met his gaze, suddenly intrigued. “The truth is that before I was going to the Academy, I did as I was told and studied Law at the University of Seoul.” The mere thought of those lonely days in Korea still sent shivers down his spine, and he was glad he had left it all behind. “My parents own several businesses. They expected me and my brother to follow the path they had chosen for us. For a while, I did what they expected of me. My grades were excellent, but law had never interested me much. And I knew that I wanted to see the stars. So I left university and applied at the Academy in San Francisco. My parents were furious, but I was happier that way. I don’t think that they approve yet, or that they ever will. But for me, it was for the best.” 

Oh, his parents had been more but furious. They had screamed at him, had said terrible things to him, had threatened him. But Seung-Gil had already made up his mind and had moved to San Francisco, excelling at the Academy. 

“Huh.” Maya nodded in approval. “I didn’t expect that.”

Seung-Gil hummed, taking another sip from his wine. 

“You have a brother?”

“Yes.”

“What does he do?”

“That is a story for another day.” Seung-Gil emptied his glass and rose, taking the bottles of wine and whiskey into his hands. “Don’t blame yourself for all this, Maya,” he said. “We’ll find a way. We’re all in the same situation. Just… make sure that Otabek doesn’t lose heart.”

Despite his stoic demeanor, Seung-Gil knew that Otabek felt deeply, and fiercely when it came to his work. And that he would most likely blame himself just like Maya blamed herself.

Maya hummed, finishing her glass of whiskey. “And you keep an eye on the captain,” she said. 

Seung-Gil nodded and took the bottles back to the bar before heading towards the exit.

“Commander?”

Seung-Gil turned around once more. Maya was still sitting by the window, her face was still pale and her eyes were still red. But she looked calmer.

“I was wrong about you. Thanks.”

He had drunk too much wine, and had slept far too little to understand the full impact of her words. The only thing he found himself able to was to nod. 

“You’re welcome,” the Korean said and gave her one of his rare smiles before leaving  _ Dark Matter. _

* * *

 

Yuri had always liked graveyard shifts. Except for this one. Usually he liked the quiet, it allowed him to think, but the silence that stretch across the room was palpable. He didn’t know what to say, or how to broach the topic. He wasn’t surprised at Maya teasing  _ him _ , but Otabek’s reaction had shown that she was teasing them both.

Because apparently, they had  _ both _ sought out her advice, and about the same fucking thing. 

And judging by the the smug smirk she had left them with, she had  _ absolutely meant _ to put them in such a spot. 

Maya wasn’t above playing her own damn game, it seemed, and he and Otabek were the pawns. She had  _ warned _ him, he remembered. She had told him to just take the fucking plunge, but all he had done was grouse about it, worry about  _ being gay _ , like that was the biggest fucking problem in the world. He should have known that she would have taken matters into her own hands, because this was her brother they were talking about. 

And Yuri was pretty sure that Maya liked him, at least. 

He spared a glanced over at Otabek. The mechanic in question was poking away at the comm panel of the science station. What kind of advice had he requested from his sister? Judging by Maya’s tone, it had absolutely been about  _ him _ . It made Yuri one part excited and one part queasy as hell.

“You know, if you take a picture, it might last longer.”

Yuri blinked, and then absurdly-- he laughed. Maya and Otabek were different as night and day, but there was the odd moment where they channeled each other.  _ That _ had been the first thing that Maya had  _ ever _ said to him, the night of that party.

The night that he had first seen Otabek, his mechanic overalls folded over and covered in grease. The first time that his heart had ever skipped a beat over him, let alone a  _ man _ , stuttering so hard that Yuri had literally been riddled breathless. 

Picture, indeed, and since, Yuri had  _ absolutely _ snagged a few candids. Hell,  _ Maya _ had sent him his favorite-- Otabek in the engine room, straddled over the engine as he worked, reaching up and wiping across his brow and--

God above, Yuri was the fucking thirstiest person he knew. 

“I have plenty of  _ pictures _ , just so you know,” he snapped, poking at his own comm panel. It took a moment to remember what exactly it was that he was doing there on the bridge. It was only him and Otabek though, and the quiet awkwardness stretched between them. 

At his words, Otabek opened his mouth into a small ‘o’, his brow raised slightly. He faltered the tiniest bit in his work, his hands freezing momentarily over the controls. And then he said, “Well, I have quite the collection of my own.”

Yuri could  _ feel _ the redness that spread across his cheeks, as his gaze narrowed shrewdly. No doubt courtesy of his sister, because Yuri had never even  _ seen _ the man with technology current enough to take pictures. He was more of a toolbox and manual labor kind of guy.

“Yuri, pay attention to the scanners,” Otabek continued with, motioning to his panel. Yuri looked down, to find it beeping angrily. Nothing important, but he’d missed it because of his  _ daydreaming _ . Yuri scowled back at the engineer, only to find him smirking slightly.

“Keep your eyes to yourself, dammit,” Yuri snapped, moving to input controls. The beeping ended and he said, “I need to initiate a base scan. What are we looking for?”

“At this time? Literally anything.”

Yuri grunted. “I’m serious, Otabek, what are we looking for?”

He paused, considering this for a moment. “Start with scanning for planets. Preferably M-Class.”

Yuri input commands for such a scan. “And then?”

Otabek paused, thinking again. “We’ll scan for natural Tritanium,” he finally said. “I don’t know how we’ll shape parts for the engine yet, but it’d be a start at least. Maybe we can reconfigure the replicators or something. Kenjirou--” But then he stopped. “No, on second thought that’s probably not a good idea.”

“Otabek--”

“ _ No. _ ” Yuri blinked, looking back at him. At the sad expression that had settled across his face. “It’d be better for him to stay away, maybe. I don’t imagine the engine room is something he wants to see.”  _ Ever again _ was the unspoken end of that sentence. 

Most likely not, Yuri thought, judging by the damage that had been done to his hands. He would be surprised if Minami would ever be able to  _ think _ about engineering again without terror. And judging by the regret on Otabek’s face,  _ he _ felt responsible.

Yuri wanted to say something, to reassure him… but he really couldn’t, he didn’t know what to say. And it wasn’t  _ just _ Minami, it was  _ fucking everything _ . He’d walked in on Otabek and his sister arguing, but he’d heard enough from the hallway, to know that shit was weighing heavily on them both. 

So he said nothing, inputting a simple control to scan for local planets. He wasn’t holding his breath on finding one that was M-Class, but it was something, he supposed. Leaning back in his chair, he stretched and then put his hands behind his hair, looking back to Otabek. 

Only to find his chair empty. Immediately, Yuri started, spinning in his chair, ready to bolt when--

Otabek was  _ right _ there, leaning over his shoulder from behind, looking at the screen intently. Yuri’s heart skipped a beat, with how close he was. He smelled clean and for once he wasn’t smeared with  _ only the gods know what _ , and it wouldn’t take much for Yuri to reach out and touch the soft skin of his cheek. 

Yuri didn’t, swallowing instead and turning to read the monitor. “What, you think I didn’t set up the scan right?”

“Of course not,” Otabek said, reaching out to adjust something. “It’s just that you didn’t actually  _ start it _ .” He hit the command button, and the console sputtered to life. 

“This ship is just different from the others that I’ve served on,” Yuri snapped. “I’m still trying to figure this shit out.”

Otabek hummed slightly, looking over everything. “Well, you’ve configured it correctly, so I think you’re just  _ distracted _ .”

Yuri was quiet for a moment, as Otabek leaned over, reading the beginnings of the scan. Finally, he steeled his nerves and said, “We need to figure out what this is.”

“We’re scanning for M-Class planets,” Otabek said bluntly. “You know, breathable atmosphere, similar ecosystems to our home planets--”

“I know what a fucking M-Class planet is, you moron,” Yuri hissed. “That’s not what I’m talking about.” Otabek was quiet, watching monitor, not answering. So Yuri spoke again, trying a different tactic. “What exactly did  _ you _ ask your sister advice for?"

“ _ Yura _ ,” Otabek said in a tone that literally melted Yuri’s heart, “does it really matter what  _ this  _ is?”

Yuri blinked, thinking about it. No, not really. He’d already made the decision that it wasn’t something that could be ignored, and now that he knew that Otabek was just as aware of it, that he’d  _ fucking asked his sister about it _ \-- 

Well, now there wasn’t a  _ reason _ to, right?

Otabek turned his face from the monitor, towards Yuri. He was still leaning over him, his chest pressed gently into the seat back. Yuri had never noticed the little flaws in his features, a few scars here and there, or how long his eyelashes were. Really, it was stupid how handsome the man was. 

And it wasn’t that Yuri thought himself ugly, it just wasn’t the same. Even though he was taller, he lacked the distinct masculinity that Otabek exuded, and the core of his internal crisis was coming to realize that that’s what he  _ liked _ . He liked this stupid and gruff, brooding mechanic. 

Otabek waited for his response, his fingers gripping the leather of the seat genty. 

Yuri waffled for a moment, before he said, “I guess it really doesn’t.” 

“Do you want to find out?” Otabek asked him. 

_ Fuck yes _ , Yuri wanted to plead, but his words got about as far as “I--”, before he lost them again. 

“I do,” Otabek said. He reached out, pulling Yuri’s chin into his fingers tenderly. “I want to spend every moment I have, figuring it out. Figuring you out.”

“ _ Jesus fucking Christ, Otabek _ , you can’t just say shit like that,” Yuri said quietly, but Otabek was already dipping closer, pulling at his jawline ever so slightly. 

Considering their track record on trying to kiss each other, and failing miserably, Yuri should have expected it. Really, he should have. But the moment the monitor let out an angry wail, he literally had to hold back the whine of frustration that ripped through him.

And if Yuri was pissed, Otabek practically seethed. He still gripped his chin gently, but his eyes were dark, and he said, “If that computer doesn’t  _ shut the fuck up _ \--”

“Maybe we should check that?” Yuri managed. The only thing that Otabek did was move again, pressing closer, and it wasn’t until Yuri pushed against his chest gently that he stopped once more. “As much as I’m all for  _ exploring _ whatever the fuck this is, I’ll remind you that we’re literally  _ lost in space _ . That beeping is probably important.”

Otabek frowned, grunting lightly as he pulled back. “The universe is against us,” he finally snapped.

“I highly doubt that,” Yuri said with an amused quirk of his lips. Otabek moved to lean over him once more, and Yuri reached up to pat his arm. 

“ _ Yura _ ,” Otabek said again, in that same fucking tone, and it made Yuri damn near melt into a puddle. “This is literally the third time--” But he cut himself off as he regarded the screen, pressing at a few buttons. 

“Otabek--”

“I can’t believe it,” the engineer muttered. He leaned over entirely, moving to type away at the keyboard with both hands. 

“Is that--”

Otabek reached into his pocket and pulled out his comm badge before Yuri could finish. Clicking it on, he said, “Otabek to Victor.”

There was a shuffling and a cracking, and then finally a sleepy response of, “Altin? How late is it?”

“I’m sorry for the hour,” Otabek said with a small wince, “But I assure you that you’ll want to come to the bridge and see this.”

“See  _ what _ ?”

“A planet!” Yuri hissed, leaning into the comm. “Get your stupid butt down here.”

There was more shuffling and a murmur about  _ propriety _ and  _ respect _ , that Yuri willfully chose to ignore. But Victor eventually requested enough time to get dressed, promising that he wouldn’t be long. 

Otabek ended the link and turned back to Yuri, who regarded him with bright eyes. “I swear Otabek, I didn’t think we’d actually find--”

“You did this, you know,” he said quietly, leaning close to him again. “You set the parameters correctly, but you used an algorithm I never would have considered. You found this planet, Yura.” 

“Yeah, yeah, go me, I’m the smartest fucking person around.” Definitely wouldn’t be the first-- or last-- time that someone underestimated him.

“I could literally kiss you, right now.”

“Third time’s a charm, right?.” Really, he had meant it as a joke. He didn’t expect Otabek to press his lips against his forehead, pecking the skin there lightly, lingering for just a  _ little too long _ , before pulling away and tucking an errant bang behind his ear gently. 

Yuri’s skin burned at the contact. It prickled and burned, and he knew that he had turned bright red, just like he  _ knew _ that he probably looked like an embarrassed ten-year-old. But Otabek had already left his side and gone back to the science station, settling into the chair as he started charting their results. 

_ Third time’s a charm, indeed. _

Yuri was so utterly fucked, and Otabek was too. 


	10. The Captain's Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MissMarquin here! I'm glad we busted this one out sooner than the last! We're hard at work writing in planning, butmI'm really busy in particular! Because we love each and every one of you, here's a long chapter full of fun. <3
> 
> Content Warning: PTSD

* * *

 

Silence was an essential characteristic of the universe. 

“In space, no one can hear you scream” was not just a popular saying amongst Academy students, or an accurate description of what most of them felt when going to space for the first time. It was harsh reality, the very same that the crew of the USS Agape had to face, as they slowly came to understand and accept the fact that no one, absolutely no one, could hear their pleas for help. They were alone in this part of the universe, surrounded by nothing but darkness. It was terrifying, and the silence on the ship was an expression of the sheer terror that the people experienced.

For Victor, it felt as if he had been mentally screaming for hours without end, with no one there to hear. As if he had been screaming into the void all along, with no possibility of ever receiving an answer. Inside his head, the universe was empty and hollow. Inside his head, he was lonely, left to his own devices.

Scanning for an M-Class planet usually took its time. Surprisingly, Otabek and Yuri had found one within minutes. But that was just the first step of many. After joining them on the Bridge and taking a look at the scans, he gave Otabek permission to run a full scan of the planet below. That, however, would take at least six hours if they wanted valid results. And so, Victor had returned to his room again, standing by the replicator, contemplating whether to pour himself a glass of vodka to soothe his nerves or not.

The rustling sound of bed sheets interrupted his train of thoughts, and as Victor raised his head, he found Yuuri sitting up in bed, looking at him sleepily. He looked adorable without his glasses, Victor thought.

Yuuri rubbed his eyes. “Aren’t you cold?” He asked, glancing down at Victor’s bare feet.

He had not even noticed that he had left without at least putting on slippers.

Victor shook his head and got himself a glass of water instead of vodka. Yuuri certainly would not have approved of him drinking in the middle of the night. And disappointing Yuuri was the last thing he wanted right now.

Yuuri was the only good thing to come out of this madness.

Yuuri lay down again and held out his hand for Victor. “Come back to bed.”

Victor emptied the glass of water in one go before he obliged, climbing back into bed next to Yuuri and pulling the duvet up to their shoulders. Yuuri moved closer to him, wrapping an arm around Victor and burying his face in his shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin there. This little, innocent gesture alone sent shivers down Victor’s spine. In any other situation, he would have kissed Yuuri senseless in return, would have tried to make the other man forget himself completely. But this was neither the right time, nor the right place for a night full of passion.

Yuuri’s presence, and his arms around him, had to be enough.

And Victor found that they were.

“How’d it go,” Yuuri mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep and his accent thicker than usual. Victor found it adorable.

“Otabek and Yuri found an M-Class planet and now they’re scanning it inside and out,” Victor murmured into Yuuri’s hair. “I told them to get some sleep as well.”

“Hmm good…” Yuuri yawned and shifted a little in Victor’s arms to get more comfortable. “And you? Are you okay?”

The question surprised Victor, especially at this hour, but he knew that Yuuri wouldn’t let it go until he had given him an answer. One that was honest. Yuuri could always tell when he was hiding things.

“I’m okay for now,” Victor whispered and nuzzled Yuuri’s hair gently. “I’ve got you with me, after all. Can’t you hear my heart beat in sheer thankfulness for you, my Yuuri?”

“Oh Victor,” Yuuri groaned in embarrassment and Victor chuckled, imagining how badly Yuuri was probably blushing in this moment.

“It’s the truth,” Victor whispered into his ear and pecked Yuuri’s temple. “Without you, I probably would have thrown myself off the bridge.”

“You know that it’s not an actual bridge.”

“You know I like making really bad jokes.”

Yuuri lifted his head, and his warm, loving gaze sent the most beautiful shivers down Victor’s spine. How had he gotten so lucky?

“I know that if you’re still making jokes, you’re okay,” Yuuri said quietly and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. Victor melted into his touch, returning the kiss as innocently as he could. One day, he told himself, he would kiss Yuuri so senseless that he forgot his name. One day he would kiss him with the entire world watching. One day, he would put a ring on the finger of this incredible man, and they would have their happily ever after.

One day.

Yuuri pulled away from the kiss, reaching up to touch Victor’s cheek. “Let’s sleep,” he whispered. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

Victor nodded, settling on the pillows beside Yuuri and holding him close. Yuuri was always the sensible one, keeping him in check.

“ _ Я люблю тебя _ ”, Victor whispered into his ear. Yuuri did not speak Russian. It was one of the few languages, it seemed, that the other man had never studied, but Victor found that he did not care. Some things were best left in the dark for now. He did not want to scare him away by saying things too early, or at the wrong time.

But Victor loved him, and he was not ashamed to admit it.

Even if he only dared to say it in Russian for now.

 

* * *

 

The morning came too fast for Victor’s taste.

To save energy, the usage of the replicators had been limited, forcing Victor to cut down on his usual breakfast of coffee, juice, cornflakes, toast, and fruit. Instead, he followed Yuuri’s example, requesting only a cup of tea and miso soup, which filled him surprisingly well and warmed him from the inside. To avoid the crowds, they had decided to have their breakfast in Victor’s room. If the situation had been a different one, the morning they shared would have been quite domestic, even. But Victor knew better than to complain. He needed this quiet morning, and this light, soothing meal in order to prepare for what was about to come.

After all, he had chosen to share his history with Yuuri, and he was certainly not going to back down again.

Yuuri deserved to know the depths of his soul. He deserved to know the truth about the man he liked to kiss goodnight. Only then, Victor told himself, only then he would know if he and Yuuri were meant to be. If Yuuri was willing to carry this burden with him.

They brushed their teeth in comfortable silence and got dressed afterwards. Yuuri had briefly gone to his own room to change into something more casual, a pair of jeans and a blue shirt. He had combed his hair, but it looked a little tousled anyway.

Victor loved it.

“Shall we go?” Yuuri asked, glancing at the old watch on his wrist. “Phichit’s probably already waiting.”

Victor nodded, grabbing his badge from the table and shoving it into his pocket. Officially, he was not on duty at this time of the day. But under these circumstances, one could never know.

Yuuri seemed to sense that he was nervous. He reached out to take Victor’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We don’t have to do this now, you know,” he said. “This can wait until we-”

But Victor shook his head. “If I don’t do this now I might never find the courage again,” he said and pulled Yuuri with him towards the door. It was quiet on the hallway, only a cleaning robot drove past them, beeping almost cheerfully. Yuuri said nothing more, only holding his hand as they made their way down to the deck where Phichit had his counselling rooms. They would have found the way blindfolded - after all, both of them went to see Phichit regularly, even if it was just for a short checkup. In the past, Victor had found the people he had been talking to about his mental health rather annoying and arrogant many times. But Phichit had turned out to be rather pleasant company - as a therapist and as a friend.

Victor understood well why Yuuri liked him.

Just as Yuuri had said, Phichit was already there when they arrived, greeting them tiredly. He had dark shadows under his eyes like almost everyone else, but otherwise, he seemed fine.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Yuuri asked him worriedly as Phichit got them something to drink. “If you’re not feeling like it we can-”

“I’m okay, Yuuri,” Phichit assured him as he returned with two glasses of water and a plate of oatmeal biscuits. “In situations like this one it is best for everyone to stick to their routine. And my job is to make sure you don’t go mad.”

“But who helps  _ you _ ?” Victor asked, sitting down on the sofa next to Yuuri. “Who do you talk to?”

Phichit smiled lightly. “I have my ways,” he said and took a seat on the chair opposite to them. “It’s not about the qualification of the person you talk to but the trust you put in them. As long as I’ve got that, I’ll be fine.” He exchanged a knowing glance with Yuuri, who understood what Phichit was trying to say. Victor understood as well. In times like these, they had to look out for one another.

“Okay, then,” Phichit said and grabbed his notebook and a pen. “Victor, you’ve told me that you have decided to open up to Yuuri about your past.”

“Yes.” Victor felt Yuuri’s hand touch his again, and their fingers intertwined instinctively.

“I don’t have to remind you that you haven’t told me everything either,” Phichit continued. “So this might be a little difficult for you - opening up to two people at the same time.”

“You know my past,” Victor said in confusion.

“I know the official version,” Phichit explained calmly. “But I do not know yours. How you felt, and what you have seen.”

Victor had never seen it in that light. There was an official version of the events that the general public knew, there was a more detailed version that Starfleet was aware of - and there was his very own version of the events. How they had actually taken place.

“You don’t have to tell us both at once, Vitya,” Yuuri said softly, and the usage of his nickname sent shivers down Victor’s spine. “I can wait outside while you tell Phichit and-”

Victor grabbed Yuuri’s hand so tightly that the other man winced, but Yuuri did not make a sound. His heart had begun to beat faster in his chest, a rush of adrenaline flashing through his body. No. He needed Yuuri with him. Yuuri was the one who made him brave.

He could not do this without him.

And as the words began to flow, finally facing the light of day, Victor knew that he would not be able to stop until he had said it all. The terrible, disgusting truth about himself.

“I was the youngest First Officer in the history of Starfleet,” Victor whispered. “I was twenty-three. I had just graduated from the Academy and had received this post the day I got my degree. My mother was so proud that she barely stopped crying that day, telling everyone that her son would go and see the stars. And ironically, they put me on my father’s ship. Put me under the command of my own father. The perfect constellation, they probably thought, but my father didn’t see it that way. He was too… too embarrassed that I was gay that he couldn’t bear the thought of having me on the same ship, and so they changed their plans, because, who could ever deny the great Admiral Nikiforov. And so they told me I would serve on the  _ USS Attempto _ , under the command of Captain Tanya Zhao.

She was a good captain, the best, even. Not only was she intelligent and had her crew under control, but she was also compassionate, and tried to look out for us. I think she had an idea why I had been sent to her, why I was not working alongside my father, because she told me that she didn’t care about any ‘indiscretions’ as long as they didn’t interfere with work. She showed me that she trusted me and my abilities, consulting me whenever she was unsure about things, valuing my opinion as if I were just as experienced as her.

It was a military operation. Our mission was actually a simple one, not even that dangerous. We were sent to the edge of the Ursa Major VI galaxy because of a distress signal we received from one of the planets there. As we arrived we saw that they were under attack. Four military ships from the Sarkolian Empire. One even bigger than the other. Like nothing we had seen before. Captain Zhao immediately requested help, but we knew it would take a few hours at least for anyone to get to us. Before we could send the final signal we were under attack as well. The Sarkolians knew what they were doing. They knew that we’d be lost without help, and they knew that Starfleet had been negotiating with the Drichanians. Their sworn enemy. Then, they stopped firing at us, and requested to speak to Captain Zhao directly. And she agreed to come to them, to their main ship. She turned to me and said that the ship would be under my command as long as she was gone. ‘You can do this, Commander’, she said and had herself taken to the Sarkolians. They… they snapped her neck the moment she arrived there. And they made sure we saw it on every single screen on our ship.”

Victor’s hand tightened around Yuuri’s.

“Suddenly I was the captain. And I knew I had to get us out of there before they could start firing at us again. The planet was surrounded by asteroids, the largest ones I’ve ever seen, and I knew that we could use them to hide our emergency shuttles. I told everyone to evacuate. We wouldn’t stand a chance against them without help from Starfleet. I stayed behind, making sure that every single crewmember got to a shuttle, but they started firing at us again and blew a hole right into the core of the ship. Everyone down there died immediately.”

Victor closed his eyes as the smell of burning flesh returned to his memory, followed by the screams of his crew. His friends.

“They fired at the planet at the same time. It was a civilisation on the brink to inventing warp, but still too underdeveloped to stand a chance against the Sarkolians. I think the Sarkolians were trying to demonstrate their power by attacking not only the planet but also us at once. But then I realised that they were not paying attention to their Mother Ship, the one that gave the orders and that controlled the other ships like puppets on a string. I knew that if we managed to destroy this ship, we would end them all, saving ourselves and the planet below.

I told our pilot to get out of there, to get to a shuttle like everyone else. The moment I knew that they were all in the capsules, I started aiming for the Mother Ship. I knew that I couldn’t make it out of there alive if I wanted my crew to live. And as their captain it was my duty to get them home safe. I could not fail Captain Zhao. So I grabbed the controls and steered the  _ Attempto _ right towards the Mother Ship. As expected, the smaller ships aimed straight at me, following me, not realising that I was aiming right at their heart, and they were as good as dead.

And then this fucking asteroid burst, its pieces hitting one of the shuttles, throwing it right into my line of fire. I hit them with full force.”

Victor opened his eyes again, looking down at his lap. “The shuttle crashed into the mothership, just like the  _ Attempto _ . The Sarkolians did not know what was happening as it blew up. Neither did I. I was too shocked to do anything but fire, I kept my hand firmly on that fucking control panel, firing until the magazine was empty. By the time their ships blew up, the Attempto had begun to fall from the sky, drawn in by the gravity of the planet below, and I was sure I would die. I was ready to face my maker. I knew that there was a very little chance of survival for me, but I thought of my mother. I thought of my friends. And I forced myself to keep going, to look for the one shuttle we had left, and I don’t know how, but I managed to get there. I climbed into the shuttle and abandoned the ship just as it blew up.

The impact of the explosion was too much, and I crashed onto an asteroid. They later told me it was the biggest asteroid they had ever seen. Almost like a planet of its own. But there was nothing. No life. No oxygen. Just me in my shuttle.

I was unconscious for a long time. When I woke up, I knew that I was alone, and that no one would come to rescue me. The others would assume that I had sacrificed myself for them. As it was supposed to be. The shuttle was almost destroyed, but I had oxygen for a few more days until I would suffocate. The control panel had burst, a part of it crushing my arm. I couldn’t feel it anymore. And I didn’t care. I would die, I was sure about that. I lost the feeling in my legs as well. I didn’t realise that my left ear was gone until I heard myself sob one time. I prepared myself for the inevitable.

I later learnt that the planet we had tried to protect had sent someone to look for us. Their technology was advanced enough to scan the asteroids, and they found my shuttle. By the time Starfleet arrived in their galaxy to pick up the remains of the Attempto, they had fixed me as best as they could. And then they sent me home with my people. More dead than alive.”

Victor had not even realised that the tears had begun to roll down his cheeks until he felt Yuuri’s hands touch his face, wiping them away gently with his thumb.

“I spent months at the hospital. They regrew my arm, my leg, fixed my hearing. Then they sent me to a sanatorium to have my head fixed. I spent almost two years trying to figure out who I was. What I wanted. I convinced myself to come back to Starfleet because this was the only thing I was ever good at. My father told me to forget, to accept the medal and move on, but I cannot forget. I… I don’t want to forget the faces of the people that I killed. Sixty-five loyal crewmembers. People who had become like brothers and sisters to me. They will never come home again because I have miscalculated the trajectory of this asteroid. I tried to tell Starfleet but they did not want to hear about it. All that mattered to them was the success, the victory over the Sarkolians. The new partnership with the people of the planet that we tried to save.”

He swallowed thickly, the tears flowing freely, but he did not care. What were the tears of a murderer compared to the tears of the people whose husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, would never come home again because of his failure?

Yuuri’s gentle grasp tightened, but Victor cut him off before he could even open his mouth. He knew that Yuuri, his wonderful Yuuri, wanted to comfort him. But could he not see what a mistake it was?

“I’m a murderer, Yuuri,” Victor whispered. “This is who I am. I have the blood of innocent people on my hands and I will never, ever be able to repent my sins. They are too heavy for any deity to cleanse me from them.”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri looked down at the pill bottle in his hands. It was a strong sedative, and Christophe had given it to him rather reluctantly. But after reading Phichit’s note, and after seeing Victor’s face, he had wordlessly turned around and gotten the bottle from the cupboard. One pill had been enough to calm down Victor enough to get him to lie down on the sofa in his room. Yuuri had put a blanket over him and had soothingly rubbed his back, had played with his hair until Victor had fallen asleep. 

Phichit had ended their session right after Victor had finished telling them his story. As Victor had been unable to stop the tears from flowing, he had advised them to go back to his room and rest for a while before talking things through. And Yuuri knew that Phichit was right. There was no way he could talk to Victor while he was in such a state. Thanking Phichit for his time and taking the note for Christophe from him, he had wrapped an arm around Victor and taken him to the doctor’s office to get the medicine.

Yuuri was glad the pills had worked their magic rather quickly. Victor had wept silent tears the entire time, and only the sedative seemed to be able to put his mind at rest for at least some time.

Seeing Victor like that had been terrifying. More terrifying than the situation that they were currently facing.

Yuuri curled up at Victor’s side, pulling his knees up to his chest and caressing Victor’s hair as he thought about the things that he had told him.

It did not take an expert like Phichit to see that Victor was blaming himself for things he had never had any influence on. There way no way that Victor, as young and inexperienced as he had been back then, could have calculated the trajectory of the asteroid. He could not have saved his captain even if he had been with her on the ship of the Sarkolians - the very race that was famous for their brutality, and the fact that they never showed mercy with their victims.

Victor had tried to save the lives of the crew he had been suddenly responsible for. And by God, he had saved almost all of them. And had destroyed the most advanced ships of the Sarkolians at the same time, creating a new military tactic that he was now famous for.

But no one knew what it had been like for the young captain. No one knew what he had been through, that he had been waiting for his certain death, almost losing his sanity just like he had lost his limbs.

Now Yuuri understood what Victor had been referring to on the holodeck, right after they had kissed for the first time. His past was still haunting him, and threatening to destroy him for good.

The catastrophe they were facing now was just the final straw.

Yuuri felt Victor shift beside him and he withdrew his hand from his hair,  watching wordlessly as Victor opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. His breathing was calm and even, and his tears had dried, but Yuuri was sure that the thoughts were already flooding his mind again. He knew the feeling - anxiety was a firm part of Yuuri’s life, and he had woken countless times feeling like a piece of crap because of his brain. Sometimes, his sister had sat with him until he felt a little better, and then she had brought him miso soup and some tea.

And now, he would sit with Victor until he felt at least well enough to talk to him.

Yuuri took a deep breath. “Can I… can I touch you, Victor?” He asked as Victor neither spoke nor moved.

Victor nodded ever so lightly, exhaling deeply.

Carefully, Yuuri buried his hand in Victor’s hair, knowing that his beloved always liked it when he did that. He let his finger tips brush his forehead, running his thumb across Victor’s cheekbone ever so tenderly. And then, after a while, Victor leant into his touch with a deep sigh and a single tear fell from his eyes onto Yuuri’s hand.

How could a person that was so loving, so gentle and caring, be so broken?

“How are you feeling?” Yuuri was sure that he already knew the answer, but he asked Victor nonetheless. He remembered what Chris had said to him, about what Victor needed. And right now, Yuuri was sure that Victor needed confirmation that he was loved and cared about. That he mattered to the people around him, regardless of the past, the present, or the future.

“I don’t know,” Victor murmured. “Like run over by a car. I guess.”

Yuuri shifted on the sofa, putting an arm around Victor and pulling him up, so that his head was resting on his lap.

Victor did not protest. His eyes met Yuuri’s, and Yuuri could not help to admire the bright blue colour of them. Almost unnatural. Usually, they were so full of life. But right now, they were dull, desaturated. As if Victor’s soul had chosen to hide itself.

“Your thighs are the perfect cushion,” he said softly.

Yuuri blushed. “I never liked them,” he murmured. “They’re so... I don’t know…”

“Flawless,” Victor said and reached up to take Yuuri’s hand that had been caressing his hair. He brought it down to his lips, kissing it tenderly. “Like the rest of you. Your body and soul. Everything about you is perfect. And you choose the most flawed person you could possibly find.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly. There it was again, the dark side of Victor that he had only just gotten to know.

“That’s the sedative talking,” Yuuri murmured and gave Victor’s hand a little squeeze. “You’re not the most flawed person.”

“It’s not the sedative talking,” Victor muttered. “I’m surprised the thing even worked on me. You don’t want to know the things I’ve done to ease the pain. I’ve taken drugs stronger than this sedative, I’ve been drunk for days without end, I’ve been throwing myself into the nightlife and went home with more people than I could possibly remember.” Deep down, Victor had always known that no drug, no drink, and no meaningless fuck could ever silence the voices in his head permanently. Of course, they would be a little more quiet for a while, but they were never really gone. “I only managed to leave that behind and get back to work at Starfleet because I had friends that didn’t tolerate any of it. Seung-Gil literally slapped me out of it. Chris threatened to get me banned from every single pharmacy on the continent. And Otabek… well… one does not mess with the man.” Victor remembered Otabek’s words only too well as the Kazakh had shown up at his door one day, fuming in anger at Victor’s recent antics. He had sworn to never repeat Otabek’s colourful choice of words out loud.

“But now it is happening again. Once more I’m responsible for bringing home an entire crew in a situation that is absolutely hopeless.” He wrapped his arms around himself, shaking like a leaf. “This is the punishment that I have been expecting all this time. I knew it would come back to me sooner or later, and now it is here, and I can’t do anything but sit and watch as my crew dies, one by one, among them my best friends and the man that I love.” He looked at Yuuri in deep and utter desperation, with no hope left in his eyes.

Yuuri lowered his head and pressed a gentle kiss to Victor’s forehead, not pulling away again.

“This situation is not hopeless, Victor,” Yuuri whispered. “As long as there are people that we love, there is hope. And you have Chris, you have Otabek, you have Seung-Gil, you have all of us. You have the entire crew on your side. And you have me. Do you really think I would no longer love you after learning about your past? Do you really think that I would leave you alone with this because it’s too much?” He pulled away a little so that Victor could look at him. “It is a lot, I will not deny that. But it will never be enough to stop me from loving you, or from wanting to be with you. I feel honoured that you shared your past with me. I’m willing to carry this burden with you. If you let me.”

In all honesty, Yuuri had expected to hear worse from Victor - when he had called himself the most horrible things right after they had been sucked through the wormhole, Yuuri had mentally braced himself for a terrible truth, for finding that the man he had fallen in love with was actually a completely different person and only hiding his true face very well. But the opposite was the case. Victor was like an open book to him now, showing him the depths of his tormented soul, telling him about the trauma.

Victor had chosen to put his trust into Yuuri, and Yuuri was determined not to betray it.

“I’m not going to pretend that I know what it feels like to… to have gone through this,” Yuuri murmured, and his fingers brushed gently over Victor’s cheek in attempt to soothe him. “But I know how terrifying it is to feel alone, and I don’t want you to be alone. I don’t want you to be afraid of anything.” He linked his fingers with Victor’s. “We won’t die up here, Vitya,” he said, and he believed to see a sparkle in Victor’s eyes as he used the affectionate name. “You have to meet my family and try my mother’s katsudon, after all.”

It was as if something inside Victor broke away, as if the force that kept his heart in its firm grasp finally let go, and a small smile spread across his pale face.

“What’s katsudon again?” Victor asked, holding Yuuri’s hand tightly.

“A pork cutlet bowl,” Yuuri answered and smiled at the memory of his mother’s cooking. “The best food on earth. Don’t ever ask the replicator for it, it won’t do it justice.”

“Noted.” Victor brought Yuuri’s hand up to his lips and kissed it gently. And then, they shifted on the sofa until they had found a more comfortable position, Victor lying on his stomach with his head resting on Yuuri’s chest. Yuuri wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, absentmindedly playing with his hair. It was such a simple gesture, but he knew how much Victor loved it.

And if he could make him happy with such a simple thing, he would never hesitate to do so.

“What do you think Phichit will think of me now?” Victor asked after a while, his voice sounding a little muffled as he spoke into Yuuri’s shirt.

“He will have nothing but respect for you, I believe,” Yuuri answered. “He’s… the least judgemental person I’ve ever met. He’ll think about it from a professional point of view, but I don’t think he’ll pity you.”

“Good. I don’t want pity.” Victor shifted a little in Yuuri’s arms, burying his face in his shirt. “My friends didn’t pity me either. Although Seung-Gil… he cried the first time he saw me after I moved to the sanatorium. Don’t tell him I’ve said that.”

“I won’t,” Yuuri chuckled. He found it hard to imagine that the stoic First Officer was even capable of such deep emotions. But then again, he hardly knew him.

“Do you get along with them?” Victor asked all of a sudden, lifting his head a little to look at Yuuri. “With my friends.”

The Japanese man blushed.

“I… I think so, why?”

“Because I really want them to like you the way I like you. Well, not to the same extent of course but…” He trailed off, a gentle blush spreading across his cheeks.

Yuuri was deeply moved by Victor’s words. Especially because Victor knew by now how hard it was for Yuuri to make new friends. That he was shy, and preferred not to talk much about himself.

“I’d love to be friends with your friends,” Yuuri said. “I think Chris likes me, and Commander Lee- I mean, Seung-Gil is just as reserved as me. Must be the Asian mentality.” Seung-Gil was not a man of many words, and he usually limited himself to comments about work. He never really talked about his private life - just like Yuuri. Perhaps they had a lot in common. But he would only find out if he put in at least some effort to befriend the man.

“And I don’t have to tell you that Otabek is a little… difficult to approach,” Yuuri added.

Victor laughed a little. The mere sound of it made Yuuri’s heart melt. A laugh was more than he could have possibly hoped for after the morning they had had.

“Otabek is indeed difficult to approach,” Victor agreed. “But once you do approach him, he’ll show you the world. And besides, I know that he likes you.”

“How do you know?” Yuuri asked with a frown.

Victor smirked. “He didn’t tell you to fuck off.”

“Oh.”

“And it certainly does help that you share a name with the guy he’s probably fucking against the console in this very moment.”

“Victor!”

 

* * *

 

Otabek was cursed.

It was bad enough to begin with, when his gazes lingered. And then he couldn’t stop thinking about those long legs and hair that was like spun gold. It didn’t really bother him, per se. It was weird, liking a  _ guy _ like that-- you know, where your heart sped up at the mere sight of them. What bothered him more was that he was rusty.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had gone on a proper date, it just wasn’t important to him.

It wasn’t likely that Yuri felt the same way, and if Otabek were to be honest, that made it better. It made it manageable. He would watch from afar, and that would be that.

And then Yuri had to fuck it up by liking him back.

Part of him knew it, he supposed. Yuri was too receptive to his teasing, and because he responded it with ease, it was easy to fall right into that trap. And then there was the whole thing with Maya, and apparently  _ Yuri asking his sister for fucking advice and _ \--

Otabek sighed, dragging a hand down his tired face.

No, he was absolutely cursed, because as much as they liked each other,  _ wanted each other _ , it was clear that the universe had other plans for them. Why else would they get interrupted literally  _ every fucking time _ ?

He grabbed a washcloth, dipping it into the cold water of the sink. The ship was slowly recovering from their disaster, and the water heater wasn’t back online yet. He grimaced slightly as he wiped at his face and then neck.

One kiss,  _ just one _ , and he would have been good. At least, that’s what he had told himself.

Yuri had become an unlikely friend, over the weeks. He craved his company because the man didn’t pull any punches. He was blunt and loud-mouthed, but smart as a tack. There was more to him than met the eye, and that’s what finally pulled him in, aside from his initial interest.

And then there were the late-night calls before bed. That’s what did him in, Otabek supposed. They were innocent, stupid even, full of frustrated gripes about the day and pointless chatter. Otabek loved them.

Otabek loved Yuri.

Or maybe not, he wasn’t sure, he hadn’t ever really  _ been in love before _ .

And that was how he’d found himself on Maya’s doorstep that night, in the middle of a personal crisis. And Maya in true form, didn’t say a fucking thing and just given him alcohol instead, as he blubbered about being apparently gay, and what would their parents think, and  _ oh god, what was his life now _ ?

Apparently, Yuri had dealt the the exact same shit. Really, the Gods were cruel, throwing them together and then holding them just from each others reach. 

There was a chiming sound throughout his small unit, and his heart skipped a beat. Maya wasn’t the type to call. She was the type to show up on the doorstep unannounced, a bottle of whiskey in her hand.

Yuri hadn’t called in a long while. Either because he was busy, or Otabek wasn’t there, or you know the whole being lost in fucking space thing. Otabek had missed it, the comfortable familiarity of it. It was routine, and lately his routine had gone off the rails.

“Computer, answer the call,” he said, moving to dry off his hair. As if he would have declined it.

 _“Hey Altin-- what the heck?_ _Audio only_?” Yuri had the gall to sound annoyed.

“I’m half naked,” Otabek said, his lips twisting into a smile even though Yuri couldn’t see it.

_ “That sounds like a good thing _ ,” Yuri replied smoothly, and Otabek faltered for a moment. That was new-- the awkward flirting. Yuri wasn’t the go-get them type and he could imagine his red face the moment he uttered the words. It was weirdly endearing.

It took Yuri speaking again for Otabek to realize he hadn’t answered, leaving a long silence between them. 

_ “If that was uh-- if that was too much, I mean, I’m sorry--” _

“No,” Otabek said a little too quickly, before wincing at his tone. “Sorry, I’m just getting ready for bed.”

There was a pause and then, “ _ I was only teasing. _ ” In true Yuri fashion, he’d brushed it off and changed the subject, and Otabek could have  _ kicked _ himself. Really, he was terrible at this flirting thing. “ _Beka_ _? _ ”

“Ah, sorry,” he muttered. “Sorry, like I said, distracted.” He heard Yuri hum through the call and Otabek smiled a small smile. “It’s been awhile since we’ve talked like this,” he finished with. 

He heard Yuri shuffling slightly on the other end and then, “ _ Yeah. I mean,  I’ve been busy and with all of this shit that’s happened, it hasn’t uh-- been convenient?” _

Otabek knew all about how  _ inconvenient _ their current predicament was, and not just with being lost in unknown space. “ _ I guess I’m just nervous, you know, _ ” Yuri finished with.

Otabek wasn’t really sure what to think about that. “Nervous?” he ventured.

“ _ I’ve never really done you know...” _ Otabek closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, preparing himself for-- “ _ An away mission.” _

That is  _ absolutely _ not what Otabek had been expecting to tumble from the man’s mouth, but he let out a massive sigh of relief, especially when Yuri just kept chattering on.  _ “I’m kind of freaking out about it. I mean, alien worlds in the known galaxy? Sure, but we’re in the fucking middle of nowhere. Who knows what the fuck we’ll find down there.” _

Really, Yuri was kind of fucking adorable when he was a nervous wreck. “Yura, Yura,” Otabek finally said, “Calm down and breathe. It’s just an away mission.” He pulled a plain tank top from his dresser and carefully pulled it on, hissing at the pain that lanced through his side.

_ “Beka-- Beka? Are you okay?” _

“It’s my damn side,” Otabek cursed. “The painkillers Chris gave me aren’t nearly as good as the ones that I was on in the sick bay.”

“ _ Oh yeah, the miracle sprinkles. _ ”

Otabek frowned. “That what now?”

_ “That’s what you called them. It was pretty fucking hilarious,” _ Yuri cackled and Otabek dragged his hand down the front of his face. He didn’t remember  _ shit _ from the first few days after the explosion, but everyone kept reminding him how  _ colorful _ it was. 

“ _ But hey, does that mean you’re dressed now? Can we switch to video? _ ”

Otabek climbed onto his bed and settled himself, before grabbing the remote tablet. Honestly, he  _ did _ want to see the stupid man’s face, not that he would confess to that. He hit the command to turn on the video feed.

Yuri looked exhausted, circles under his eyes, but his face brightened the moment that he saw Otabek. The T-shirt he wore was loose around the neck, nearly slipping down his shoulder, and his hair was loose, hanging about his face freely. This was usual, but it felt different this time, and Otabek found himself swallowing thickly.

Yuri’s gaze washed over him momentarily and then he looked away, moving to tie his hair up. Otabek watched as his he brushed his fingers through his hair gently.

“Leave it down,” Otabek suddenly said, and they both froze.

“Oh?” Yuri asked, cocking his head to the side, “Do you prefer it this way.”

Otabek panicked and said, “No-- er, what I mean is-- It  _ suits  _ you and--”

“I already know that you like it down,” Yuri said with a laugh. But he did as he was asked, settling for combing out the tangles with his fingers.

Otabek hadn’t ever told him that, which meant-- “God, exactly  _ how _ out of it was I?”

At that, Yuri smirked at him. “There’s enough blackmail material to keep you whipped for  _ years _ . Carefully saved and packed away in an encrypted file.”

Otabek groaned, leaning back in the bed and laying his arm over his eyes. “ _ Maya _ .” Really, he should have known, he should have fucking expected this. And he didn’t like the look on Yuri’s face either. He chanced another glance at Yuri through the screen, who was still looking away and undoing the the tangled mess that was his hair.

“Don’t tomorrow worry you,” Otabek finally said. Yuri paused briefly and then resumed, humming lightly. The scan had proven effective, finding ample amounts of natural tritanium on the surface of the planet. Otabek wasn’t excited about retrieving it, but he knew that all Yuri could think about was fixing the ship. “We’ll have a good team going with us.”

“You can’t actually think that the Captain is  _ good _ ,” Yuri finally said. “That man is an absolute  _ kook.” _

“Who’s a really good shot with a phaser, when it comes down to it. And you know, if we meet any natives well, he’s got the whole  _ charisma _ thing.”

Yuri snorted at that. “Thank god, because lord knows that you don’t.” Otabek chuckled, despite the jab. “I mean, I don’t either, so I can’t say much.”

“We’ll also have Seung-gil and JJ coming with us.”

Yuri finished tugging at his hair and looked back to Otabek. “Wait, the security officer dude?” Otabek wouldn’t call JJ a  _ dude _ , but… “He seems like a moron,” Yuri sighed.

“He’s  _ not _ ,” Otabek insisted. “I know he’s a little much but he’s  _ really _ good at deescalating bad situations.”

Yuri didn’t look remotely amused. “I won’t believe it until I see it.” Finally he flipped his hair over his shoulder and leaned back against his headboard. “You can’t blame me though, for being worried. I mean like I said,  _ this is literally Where no man has gone before. _ ”

“Isn’t that a line from some old TV show?”

“It’d definitely take an old man like you to know.”

“ _ Yura, _ I’m only a few years older than you,” Otabek sighed. The nickname was catching, and the more that he said it, the more it fit. And Yuri seemed to relax at the familiarity.

The quiet stretched between them for an awkward moment, before Yuri spoke. “Did you mean it?” he finally asked. “You know, when you said you wanted to figure me out?”

Otabek would have expected to panic and freeze up, swallowing thickly, but none of that happened. In fact, he effortlessly replied with, “ _ Yes _ ,” the word tumbling from his mouth with ease.

When he looked back to the screen, Yuri had sat forward, propping one leg up as he rested an arm on it. “You can’t just fucking say shit like that,” Yuri whispered. It was the same thing he’d said earlier, when Otabek pressed closer.

You know, before the universe yanked them right back apart. Otabek refused to believe that it meant something, because the alternative was a much more inviting idea.

“Does it bother you?” Otabek finally asked.

“No!” Yuri sputtered, surprising the man. Then he sighed, smacking a hand against his face nervously. “I don’t want to seem like--” There was a pause, and then, “What I mean to say is--” A deep sigh. “God, Maya is right, we’re fucking hopeless.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Otabek said with an amused smile. Yuri was practically red at the ears, as he hugged his leg.

“Forget it,” Yuri finally snapped, and Otabek chuckled. The kitten had turned back into a raging tiger, but when combined with his embarrassment, it made for a cute picture.

“We should probably call it at night,” Otabek said. “Call time for the mission is 0800, and we’re coasting on little sleep already. I don’t want to be saving your ass, because you were too into me all night, instead of sleeping.”

“You fucking wish,” Yuri practically snarled, but he couldn’t stop the small twitch of amusement that settled across his face.

And Otabek abso-fucking-lutely wished.

Yuri yawned. “Good night Beka,” he finally mumbled, moving to slip under the covers.

“Good night Yura,” Otabek said back. Yuri was about to end the call when he finished with, “I know I was teasing but, of course I’d save you. You know, if you needed it.”

“The only thing I need saving from, is your fucking sister. She’s a menace.”

Otabek barked out a laugh, and Yuri gave one more tiny wave before ending the call. Otabek slipped under his own covers, laying the tablet on the tableside.

He hated away missions, really. He hated space, he hated planets and all he wanted was to be back home and working on his bike.

But despite the severity of their situation, it seemed like there was at least a little light the gleamed. Yuri wasn’t against the idea of figuring them out, and that was enough to distract him.

 

* * *

Yuuri could not believe that he was about to do this.

He had just dropped Victor off at Phichit’s office once more so that he could continue with his session. Before leaving him, Yuuri had made sure that Victor was fine, but the sedative was still in his system and kept him calm enough. And besides, Phichit knew how to deal with upset people, and he assured Yuuri that Victor was in safe hands with him. Nonetheless, Yuuri had a strange feeling in his stomach as he watched the door close behind Victor. Now that he knew what was going on, he could not help but feel responsible for him.

But Yuuri knew he could not be at his side every single moment. They both had duties, as a Captain and as a Communications Officer. But now that they were floating at the end of the universe, and there were definitely no messages incoming, Yuuri found himself without a job.

He approached the computer on the wall and opened the keyboard, typing in Seung-Gil’s name. A moment later, the computer showed him where the First Officer was. Much to his surprise, the Korean was not in his room, and not on the bridge, either. Instead, the computer had located him in the music room.

Yuuri had not even been aware that there was a music room on the ship.

Next, he typed in Otabek’s name, expecting the computer to find him either in the engine room or in his quarters. Instead, the computer displayed the location of the prayer room.

Yuuri stared at the screen in disbelief.

Who would have thought the First Officer to be a musician and their Head Engineer to be religious?

After his conversation with Victor, he remembered what Chris had said to him. That Victor needed someone to remind him that he was loved, that people cared for him and wanted to have him around. In the past, his friends had shared this job among themselves. But now, he was part of these people. More than that - he was Victor’s boyfriend now. And Yuuri took this job very seriously.

But if he wanted to know how he could help Victor the best, he had to talk to the people that had known him before, during, and after his trauma.

Seung-Gil had talked to him many times before, mostly about work, but every now and then, he had shown his private self as well. He had walked into him consoling Victor, and had not batted an eye. Chris had known that Victor and Yuuri were attached at the hip the moment they had walked into sickbay right after the crash.

And Otabek…

To say that the man was difficult to approach was an understatement. Everything about Otabek’s demeanour screamed ‘Leave me alone if you want to live to see tomorrow’, but Yuuri assumed that if a man like Victor, whose cheerfulness and effervescent personality often went completely overboard, managed to befriend Otabek, then he could do the same.

The prayer room was located in an inconspicuous corner of the ship, most likely in order to give those going there some privacy. Yuuri had not been raised in a very religious way. Sure, they went to the temples and shrines on high holidays, and they had an altar at home for their late loved ones, but that was about it. Others on the ship were far more religious. He just hadn't thought that the Kazakh was one of them.

Yuuri shifted from one foot to the other as he waited outside the prayer room for Otabek to come out. Never would he have dared to just walk in and disturb the man during whatever it was that he was doing.

Before leaving earth, his mother and father had taken him to the shrine near their home. A plain, quiet place hidden away between shops and restaurants, almost like a sanctuary. There, they had prayed for a safe journey, and that Yuuri would come back home one day in one piece.

Yuuri had never hoped so strongly for a prayer to work like he did now.

He sighed, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes.

Just then, he heard the doors of the prayer room open and he stood up straight, swallowing nervously as Otabek Altin walked out of the room, carrying something that looked like a rug under his arms. He was dressed in clean clothes for a change, wearing sweatpants and a clean black shirt. He stopped in his tracks as he saw Yuuri, a look of suspicion spreading across his face.

“Katsuki.” Otabek nodded.

“H-Hello,” Yuuri stuttered, nervously shifting where he was standing. Why on Earth had the man to be so short, yet so intimidating? “I, uh… How are you?”

_ How are you?! _

Good lord.

Otabek frowned even more. “I’m good,” he said, looking at Yuuri in a way that sent shivers down the man’s spine. “And yourself?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Yuuri said, internally scolding himself for sounding like a blushing schoolgirl trying to talk to her crush. This was just Victor’s friend, damn it.

The very one that was apparently a walking weapon, according to his boyfriend.

“I, uh, I just wanted to… to say hi,” Yuuri said, glancing at the prayer rug under Otabek’s arm. “I didn’t know you were religious.”

Otabek followed his gaze before he shrugged. “I’m not,” he said. “But old habits die hard, I guess. How about you?” He suddenly fixated Yuuri with a look that he couldn’t describe as anything else than wary.

“Not really, no,” Yuuri answered, shaking his head quickly. “I’m not here to pray, I… I just…”

_ Why am I like this? _

“Victor has told me everything. About his past, and his trauma.” Once the words had come out, Otabek’s expression changed immediately. Instead of looking at Yuuri suspiciously, he was now regarding him with a look that reminded Yuuri of… appreciation?

“And that didn’t send you running?” Otabek paused, and then continued with, “You’ve got more guts than I would have thought, Katsuki.”

“Yuuri, please,” Yuuri said as he blushed at the engineers sudden words of approval. A hint of amusement flashed across Otabek’s face, but it was gone before Yuuri had the chance to react to it. “I… I know that you’ve been with Victor during his darkest times and that he thinks highly of you, so I thought that maybe… maybe you could… I mean, if it was alright to you-”

“You can always stop by for a drink,” Otabek interrupted him calmly before he could continue his mindless rambling. “I’ll help you handle the mess that is Victor Nikiforov if you need me to. I assume that’s what you wanted to ask of me.”

Yuuri nodded, feeling a little awkward due to the fact that he was apparently so easy to read, even for the mysterious Otabek Altin. “I want to help him,” he said. “In the best way possible. And I want to get to know the people that he calls his best friends. Including you.”

For a second, Yuuri believed to see a blush on Otabek’s tanned face, but it was gone again immediately.

“That man shoves friendship into people’s faces without respecting any boundaries,” Otabek murmured and shook his head. Yuuri swallowed thickly. Maybe Otabek was not the type of person to want friends at all. Perhaps he was happy with the one or two that he got, and didn’t want to-

“You’re a good one, Katsuki,” Otabek said, pulling Yuuri out of his thoughts before his brain could talk him into another panic attack. “Victor seems more grounded because of you.” And then, he extended his hand, offering it to Yuuri.

Yuuri stared at him in surprise. 

How could it have been that easy?

“Are you taking it now or not?” Otabek asked when Yuuri didn’t react at first.

“Sorry!” Yuuri blurted out and quickly shook Otabek’s hand. Otabek nodded, letting go of him again after a second only.

“I keep forgetting that you Asians don’t shake hands,” he said, glancing at the clock on the computer’s display on the wall. “I should get some sleep. Call me if you need anything. Or come to the engine room. Knock first, though.”

“I will,” Yuuri said, still shaken by the fact that Otabek had accepted his offer of friendship that easily. “Thank you.”

Otabek nodded, and then walked away towards the turbolift, leaving behind a massively relieved Yuuri, who couldn’t believe his luck.

Perhaps he wasn’t as awkward as he had always thought.

Perhaps, he thought as he walked into the other direction to get to the other turbolift, perhaps his sister Mari had always been right.

It took the right time to find the friends one needed.

 

* * *

 

Yuri was a nervous wreck.

Which was ridiculous, really, when he really thought about it. He never felt like this, like he was about to make the biggest fucking mistake of his life. He always charged ahead, anxiety basically unknown to him. And yet, there he stood at the doorway of the transporter room, wringing his fingers so tightly that his knuckles were white.

He heard footsteps and turned to look, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of Otabek. Yuri had only seen him in his mechanic overalls or t-shirts and jeans, so the official starfleet uniform was different… but damn, he couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat at the sight. The yellow of Engineering wasn’t the  _ best _ color on his olive skin, but the black pants of the jumpsuit balanced it out. The three gold pips at his neckline signified that he was  _ indeed  _ a Commander. He still couldn’t get Otabek to tell him that particular story.

“It’s so stupid,” Yuri finally said to him, leaning against the doorframe of the room. The transporters looked innocent enough, the circular platforms idling until they were needed. “It’s not like I haven’t used a fucking transporter before.”

“Yuri--”

“It’s not like I haven’t done an away mission either,” Yuri continued with. “I mean, I guess that I haven’t since I was stationed on an actual starship, but I’ve been on training missions and--”

“ _ Yura _ ,” Otabek cut in, his voice deep and calming. Yuri snapped his mouth shut at the sound of it. “It’s okay to be apprehensive.”

“I’m not fucking apprehensive,” Yuri snapped, and then his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m… you know…”

Otabek raised an eyebrow. “You know, it’s okay to be  _ scared _ ,” he finished. “Even I get scared.”

Yuri scoffed at the mere idea of it. “You and I both know that’s a fucking lie,” her murmured.

Otabek surprised him by laughing, shifting the pack the was slung across his shoulder slightly. “Yura, there are plenty of things that terrify me.” Yuri shot him an unbelieving look, causing him to continue. “You’ve never met him, but my father, for one. I also can’t do spiders. And then there’s Maya, I’m fucking  _ terrified _ of her.” Yuri cracked a smile at that.

“Besides,” Otabek continued, “I haven’t been on a proper away mission in years. Hell, I haven’t been on a  _ ship _ since the academy.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow at that.They had talked about his experience at the academy briefly, but as close as they were now, Otabek still wasn't comfortable sharing the intimate details of his past. And Yuri wasn’t stupid, he  _ knew _ that kind of hesitation. It was  _ hard _ dealing with family that put unrealistic pressure on you.

That’s why he adopted the ideal of  _ not giving a fuck _ .

Otabek did though. Otabek gave a lot of fucks, and honestly, that was the one thing that pissed Yuri off.

“You know,” Yuri finally said, still leaning against the door frame as he looked to Otabek again. “You never did tell me why you didn’t actually  _ serve _ in Starfleet.”

Otabek blinked, but he didn’t seem angry, and he replied with a simple, “I didn’t join Starfleet for the stars.” It wasn’t the first time Yuri had heard that. “Starfleet gave me my engineering degree, that was really it. Maya is the one that likes space.”

“ _ Maya _ \--”

“Did you think she just  _ randomly _ wanted a lounge on a starship?”

Well no, Yuri thought. He’d always assumed that Maya had followed Otabek into space, not the other way around. Suddenly, the dynamic of their relationship flipped a little.

“The academy had an engineering degree,” Otabek finished with a shrug. “Seemed like the logical choice.”

_ Logical _ . How utterly fucking Otabek, Yuri realised. Finally, he pointed to the collar. “Then why the rank?”

Otabek scowled. “That’s--”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that your relationship had progressed  _ so far _ ,” a voice said from behind them, amused. Both Otabek and Yuri turned to find Victor standing there, his uniform pressed to perfection. Yuuri stood behind him, wringing his fingers nervously.“For him to tell you about--”

“ _ You’re the one who told him _ ,” Otabek said tersely.

Victor blinked and then it dawned on him. “Oh right! When I interrupted--”

“When you interrupted  _ what _ ?” The man that walked up behind Victor was one that Yuri had only met a handful of times, since he tended to work the graveyard bridge shift. Which, in retrospect made literally  _ no _ sense for the chief security officer.

“JJ,” Otabek said coolly, “we’re not talking about this.”

“Talking about  _ what _ though?”

“Oh, about his budding--” Victor started, but snapped his mouth shut the  _ moment _ Otabek shot him a glare that could have frozen the ocean. As amused as Yuri was about the whole thing, was was very relieved that he was on Otabek’s good side.

Victor cleared his throat and changed the subject by waving everyone into the transporter room. “Okay, let’s begin with our briefing, yes?”

Seung-gil trailed in after everyone, shouldering his pack like everyone else. He looked tired though, and Yuri couldn’t think of a time that he’d seen the man so ruffled. The situation with the ship was taking its toll on everyone it seemed, even their unflappable first officer.

Yuri wasn’t sure that he liked that, it unsettled him.

“It’ll be pretty cut and dry,” Seung-gil said, turning to look at everyone as he leaned against the transporter console. It was more casual than Yuri had ever seen him. Yeah, Seung-gil was going crazy. “We’ll split up I think, cover more ground. Victor, JJ and myself,” he paused to point between them, “We’ll head east. Yuri and Otabek should be fine on their own--”

“Why do you get two others?” Yuri interrupted. Yeah, he sounded irrational but… at least Otabek didn’t look offended. If anything, he looked amused, his lips quirked into a tiny little smile. Yuri scowled at him.

Seung-gil gave him a measured gaze and replied with, “Because Otabek is literally all you need. Trust me.”

It wasn’t the first time that Yuri had been warned of his apparent  _ physical prowess _ , but he Yuri couldn’t imagine it. He looked to Otabek, who only shrugged it off, cool as a fucking cucumber. I mean sure, the man  _ looked _ mean, but Yuri has spent enough time around him to know that he was nothing but a big softie. “Otabek is literally as threatening as a teddy bear--”

It was JJ who burst out laughing. All eyes turned to him as he laughed so hard, he was wiping away tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, catching his breath, “I couldn’t hold it, this kid is hilarious.”

Yuri started at the word  _ kid _ , but JJ continued. “Really, I wish I was paired off with him. I’d be pretty much guaranteed to come back. I could bear the thought of leaving my precious Isabella all--”

“No one gives a shit about your imaginary woman,” Yuri snapped.

JJ shrugged, waving the thought away. “Right, right, I’m with Victor and Gilly. I’ll back off the man,  _ Princess _ .”

“You call me Princess one more time,” Yuri snarled, “you’ll find yourself minus a  _ limb _ .”

JJ hummed at the treat, but didn’t seem bothered by it, which caused Yuri to huff.

“ _ Back to the briefing _ ,” Seung-Gil said tersely, “We’ll split up, but don’t wander off too far. Preliminary scans show that there  _ is _ a civilization down there, and while we’ve detected them scanning out ship, we aren’t sure they are warp capable.” He paused at that, frowning. “They likely are and it’s just that our instruments can’t detect it. Being in unknown space everything is variable. If you encounter someone, basic first contact rules apply.”

That caused Yuri’s gut to twist in nervousness. Really, all he wanted was to get down there, grab their stupid tritanium and get the fuck out of dodge. Knowing their luck, that wouldn’t happen. Yuri wasn’t exactly  _ lucky _ when it came to things.

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder squeeze, and he didn’t need to look to know that it was Otabek. He took a deep breath and it steadied him.

It was stupid, how the man’s presence did wonders to calm him.

You know, until his heart sped up because of other stupid reasons. Yuri pushed off his hand with a scowl, crossing his arms stubbornly. He felt Otabek chuckle against him, but pull away.

“Darling,” Victor said to the side, turning to Yuuri. He was pale and a blubbering mess, and Yuri thought it was fucking hilarious. “The ship is yours.”

“Oh Victor,” he breathed, reaching out to brush nonexistent dust from the shoulder of his uniform. “I’m not sure--” He paused, picking at a thread. “Surely I’m not the right person too--”

“Nonsense,” Victor said with a dismissive wave. “You’re perfect, you’ll  _ be _ perfect.” He cup Yuuri’s cheek lovingly and then finished with, “Besides, you’re the highest ranking officer left on the ship once we beam down, so I don’t have much of a choice.”

Yuri wasn’t sure the man’s face could get paler than it was, but it was like Yuuri had been deprived of blood entirely.

“Victor--” he started, but the captain pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek before pulling away. Well that effectively shut him up and Yuri resisted the urge to gag.

Really, when he and Otabek finally got to that point, they definitely won’t flaunt it in front of everyone--

He stopped that thought dead in the water, throwing a nervous glance to Otabek. He wasn’t looking though, and Yuri let out a huge sigh of relief. He wasn’t good about holding his face straight and Otabek teased him mercilessly about it.

Seung-gil motioned for all of them to head to the transporter pad and they followed suit. The moment that Yuri stood on the indicated spot, he felt the dread like a weight in the pit of his stomach.

This was stupid. He never felt like this, he  _ never fucking felt like this _ . Maybe it was the seriousness of getting lost, or the nature of the deadly unknown. Scans only told them so much; they had  _ no _ idea what they would find down there.

And it wasn’t like he thought the team incapable. Even their Captain and his stupid airheadedness… well, Yuri wasn’t stupid enough to think him useless. He was famous for a fucking reason.

Yuuri went to the transporter console and began to input the commands. Victor yelled something encouraging out to him and Yuri couldn’t even find the effort to scowl at the display of affection. He felt the tingling sensation as the air around them electrified.

Before he could properly freak out though, someone reached out, grasping his fingers tightly. Again, he didn’t need to look to know that it was Otabek, he just _ knew _ . It didn’t ease him completely, but it helped, as he squeezed back hard enough to bruise his knuckles.

Otabek didn’t seem to even flinch as they disappeared.


	11. Glitter and Hell (AKA Planet Kaleidoscope)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MissMarquin-- Thanks for everyone's patience! We wanted to get this out sooner but I was too busy vacationing in New York and... HANGING OUT WITH THEANGRYUNIVERSE IN PERSON, AND I LOVE HER, AND IM SAD SHE HAS TO GO BACK TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD. 
> 
> In other news, I dedicate this chapter to Josie. You know who you are.

_**Glitter and Hell (AKA Planet Kaleidoscope)** _

 

* * *

 

 

How on Earth had he ended up in such a situation?

Yuuri looked at the captain’s chair in the centre of the bridge, swallowing thickly. He was very much aware of the weight resting on his shoulders now, and of the trust that Victor had put into him by making him the captain of the  _ Agape  _ for as long as he was gone.

It was an absolute nightmare.

In any other situation, he would have turned to one of his superiors for help. If not Victor, then Commander Lee, but the First Officer had beamed down to the surface of the planet, just like Victor, Otabek, Yuri, and JJ.

It was not that Yuuri lacked the qualifications for taking over the ship in a situation like this. He had been at the Academy long enough and had passed all the necessary tests to be more than just a Communications Officer. But that did not mean that Yuuri had ever expected to find himself in charge of a freaking  _ spaceship _ .

His knees felt anything but stable as he approached the captain’s chair and took a seat, aware of the looks of the people around him. At least there were some familiar faces. Minami sat where Yuuri’s place usually was, at the console with his back to the main screen, checking the channels in case anyone contacted them from the surface of the planet. Phichit stood to his left, his hands clasped behind his back and giving Yuuri an encouraging smile. Despite being a psychologist in the first place, he had the rank of a Lieutenant and was trained for first contact situations. His presence was comforting, and Yuuri felt a little lighter.

“All systems are operating, Captain,” Minami said and turned around on his chair. “We have a stable connection to the crew below.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri murmured and shifted on the chair, looking down at the touchpad on the armrest. How on earth did this work again?

“The one on the top right, Sir,” Minami said softly.

Yuuri blushed and touched the screen, clearing his throat.

“Everything okay down there?” He asked, trying to sound a lot braver than he felt in this moment. This was wrong, he thought. So very wrong. This was Victor’s chair, and Victor should sit in it, or Seung-Gil, hell, maybe even Otabek, but certainly not him, the poor excuse of a Lieutenant…

“ _ Connection is stable, _ ” he heard Seung-gil answer. “ _ The transport was successful, although Ensign Plisetsky stumbled into a tree. _ ”

What followed was an angry shout from their pilot from somewhere in the background, and everyone on the bridge chuckled. If Yuri Plisetsky still managed to curse, he was fine.

“Good,” Yuuri said, biting his lip. “I, uh… I’ll keep the channels open. What is the-”

“ _ Yuuri! This planet is so pretty _ !” As always, Victor had absolutely no sense of appropriate timing. “ _ The trees are pink! I wish you could see this. _ ”

“ _ And they call you captain! _ ” They heard Yuri bark in the background.

“It might be pretty, but also dangerous,” Yuuri replied, trying to hide his smile. Victor never failed to make him laugh, and he knew that Victor was trying to be cheerful for his sake. Victor knew that he was nervous, and afraid of doing something wrong. “I expect you all back in one piece as soon as you’ve found the… the stuff you need.”

“ _ We’ll report back to you as soon as we’ve found the tritanium, _ ” Seung-gil said and the transmission ended, leaving Yuuri a little more relaxed and at the same time on the edge of his seat. The sooner they found the tritanium, the better.

“Doesn’t even know what it is we’re looking for,” someone muttered from behind Yuuri.

“I’m sorry?” Yuuri looked up, not sure where the comment had come from - the bridge crew mainly consisted of people he hardly knew tonight. The man sitting on the console behind him was one he had met a few times before at the lounge, but he had never really talked to him. Upon taking a closer look, Yuuri recognised him as one of the men that frequently flirted with Maya - or tried to, at least.

Maya was a woman with standards.

“The channels are a little unstable, Captain,” Minami chirped from the other side of the bridge, and Yuuri quickly turned the chair. Minami was furiously typing away on the keyboard, trying to keep the connection to the crew on the planet. “There are, uh, radio waves from the surface of the planet that are messing with our technology, but not to a great extent.”

“Radio waves?” Yuuri got up and walked over to Minami to get a proper look of the screen that was usually his. “So the civilisation down there must have reached a certain level of technology already.”

“I’m not sure if they’re our kind of radio waves, though,” Minami replied, enlarging the screen for Yuuri and showing him the graphs. It was similar to what they had seen on earth, albeit with slight alterations that hinted at a different source.

“Are they disturbing our signals right now?” Yuuri asked, and Minami nodded quickly, showing him the output of their system. Yuuri didn’t like what he saw. If the radio signals kept disturbing their signal, they would soon not be able to communicate with the crew on the planet anymore. They would be left to their own devices until they returned to the point they had beamed down to.

“Do everything you can to keep the connection to Vi- to the Captain, or to Commander Lee,” Yuuri murmured and patted Minami’s shoulder lightly. “We don’t know what this planet is like, and we cannot risk being unable to contact them.”

“Yes, Captain,” Minami said firmly and tried to establish a new connection to Victor as Yuuri returned to his seat, looking down at the control panel on his armrest, anxiously watching the little circle turn and turn as the connection was rebuilt.

“Pathetic.”

This time, both Yuuri and Phichit turned around as the crewman behind them spoke again.

“I’m sorry?” Phichit asked, raising an eyebrow. “What did you say?”

“Me?” The crewman looked up. “Oh, no, no. Nothing.” He turned around to the console again, and muttered something under his breath that sounded very much like “poor excuse of a lieutenant” and “booty calls via ship channels”.

“Hey now,” Minami said loudly, turning around on his chair and glaring at the other man with an intensity that Yuuri had never seen on the Japanese man before. “Didn’t you hear what Captain Nikiforov said? As long as he’s on the away mission, Katsuki is our captain. Respect him as such.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly as he watched Minami and the other man argue. He had expected that not everyone would agree with Victor’s decision to put him in charge for the duration of his absence, but he had not thought that people would show their hostility so openly and in such a crass way.

“Minami-kun, it’s fine-” He tried to say, but Minami shook his head vigorously.

“He has no right to talk to you like that, Captain,” Minami said firmly, glaring at the other man.

The man huffed, not even looking at Yuuri or Minami as he answered. “He’s only in this position because he’s fucking that pathetic Nikiforov. As if a Communications Officer had the qualifications for-”

Before Yuuri knew what was happening, he had jumped from his chair and had closed the distance between himself and the crewman at the console. It was one thing to insult him, but something entirely different to insult Victor behind his back.

“Now listen  _ clearly _ , Ensign,” Yuuri said in a low voice, fixating his gaze on the other man. “You may not like Captain Nikiforov’s decisions, but he is your superior, and for as long as he is gone,  _ I  _ am your superior, and when you talk to me, you talk to the Captain. Is that understood?”

The atmosphere on the bridge had shifted to iciness, and no one, not even Minami, dared to speak as Yuuri put the man back into his place.

“Oh, and regarding my qualifications, may I remind you that I am not only a Lieutenant, Commander but also your Head Communications Officer and of the highest rank on this ship right now. You are an Ensign, so watch what you are saying. Oh, and if you insult Captain Nikiforov one more in my presence, you will regret it, Ensign,” Yuuri hissed and turned around, going back to his chair and taking a seat, trying to hide the fact that his hands were shaking. But oh, it had felt good to get this out, although it had felt incredibly strange to talk like this. He was not a naturally confident person, he never had been. Only as he glanced at the panel on the armrest, he saw that the connection to Victor had been re-established, and was more stable than ever before.

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat as he realised that Victor had heard the whole thing.

Where was the next lever to eject himself into space again?

“ _ Yuuri _ ,” Victor’s said, and his voice sounded strangely breathy as if he were about to cry. “ _ That was incredibly hot. _ ”

Yuuri wanted to die then and there.

“ _ And he wonders if he’s got what it takes to be in command _ ,” he heard Seung-gil say from somewhere in the background, while Yuri Plisetsky yelled something about “wrong timing”.

“ _ Keep going like that _ ,” Victor said. “ _ Alright, we’ll split up now. Keep talking to us every now and then so we can make sure the connection works both ways. You’re doing so well, Captain Katsuki. _ ”

“Victor... “ Yuuri whispered, his heart aching at the praise of his boyfriend.

Phichit sighed, patting Yuuri’s shoulder gently. “Alright then, Captain,” he said. “Let’s make sure we get them back in one piece.”

 

* * *

 

“It looks like God just vomited every color of the fucking rainbow up and called it a planet.”

Otabek looked up. It was the first thing that either of them had said since beaming down to the planet, aside from accepting orders from their Captain dearest. It was very like Yuri to cover his discomfort with harsh words and profanity, Otabek thought, but he couldn’t hide his white knuckles or how tightly he held the tricorder.

“ _ Pretty _ ,” Yuri muttered. “We’re exploring an unknown planet, and that’s literally the  _ only _ think that the Captain could focus on.”

“Well, it’s not like he was wrong, you know.” Otabek pointed around them. “It has a certain…  _ charm _ about it.”

The flat stare that the pilot shot back nearly made him burst into laughter, but Otabek managed to hold onto it.

“Charm,” Yuri repeated, nearly spitting the word. “I’m not sure that I would call a tree that’s--” He paused, considering the color of the leaves. “What would you even call this color?  _ Chartreuse _ ?”

Otabek chuckled in amusement, until Yuri reached out to grab a leaf between his fingertips. Immediately his hand whipped out, grabbing Yuri’s and they both paused. “Uh--” Otabek floundered for a moment, trying to ignore that this was the first time that they technically had held hands. “Remember what Chris said in the briefing,” he finally managed. “Don’t just go and touch things. For all we know, these plants are poisonous.” He paused and then added for good measure, “Isn’t that how nature works? Bright colors mean to stay away?”

Yuri grunted, but yanked his hand. “I suppose that idiot of a doctor is right.” He wiggled his fingers. “I promise I won’t touch random shit anymore, ‘kay?”

“Good. I’m responsible for your stupid ass--”

“I’m  _ not _ stupid,” Yuri cut in, and Otabek’s lips twitched into a smile.

Yuri’s eyes narrowed at him, and he said, “Oh, I get it now. You’re trying to distract me, or something.”

“Not  _ distract _ . More like… uh,  _ relax _ you. Seriously, you won’t be any use if you’re so tense.”

To his credit, Yuri didn’t look angry. Instead he sighed. “I’m just-- What I mean is, this is really fucking nerve-wracking you know? We’re the first humans to ever step foot on this planet, and who the fuck knows what we’ll find here? Haven’t you ever seen  _ The Predator _ ?”

“That’s a twentieth century sci-fi movie, Yuri, not some documentary.”

“But the point is that you don’t know,” Yuri concluded. “You have no fucking idea.”

Otabek pointed to the tricorder in his hand. “Which is what that’s for,” he said with a frown. “Scan things, move carefully and remain calm. We’ll be fine.”

Yuri grunted again, not remotely convinced. “I know something’s going to happen, so I’m just going to say it now--”

“Say  _ what _ \--”

“I fucking  _ told you so _ .”

It was Otabek that grunted this time, rolling his eyes. For everything that he liked about Yuri, there were times that he was such a petulant  _ brat _ . It was a good thing those other qualities outweighed that, and that Otabek had the patience of a saint, because otherwise he would have never put up with it.

“Just quit your whining and start scanning,” he finally said, pulling out hi own tricorder. “If you’re so concerned about being down here, then let’s find the Tritanium and get out of here.”

Yuri for once didn’t mouth back, looking at his own tricorder before punching in a few commands. “You know,” he said after a long moment, “I probably should apologize.”

Otabek paused at that, giving Yuri a shrewd look. “You never apologize,” he replied. “At least, not without wanting something in return.”

“You aren’t wrong about that,” Yuri said smoothly, still punching in commands. “But this is a little different. It’s not like I don’t think you can handle yourself.”

“But that’s  _ exactly _ what you think,” Otabek pointed out, his head cocked to the side. He wasn’t stupid, he  _ knew _ that Yuri didn’t really take his combat prowess seriously. He’d been top in his class at the Academy, and despite people constantly mentioning it, Yuri just didn’t seem to comprehend it.

“You’re like a teddy bear,” Yuri said. Okay,  _ that _ was a little bit insulting. “You’ve got this big and brooding exterior, but you’re really this nice guy, who seems like he’d be a big sap.”

Yuri wasn’t exactly wrong, but Otabek refused to give him the satisfaction of a win. “You know how you keep asking me about my rank?”

“Oh? You finally going to spill the beans,  _ Commander _ ?” Normally, it sounded like mockery coming from anyone else, but with Yuri the jab was a little more lighthearted.

“ _ No _ ,” Otabek said with a smirk. “You’ll still have to ask Seung-gil about that one.”

Yuri pouted, and God above it was adorable. “Then what’s the point of even bringing it up?”

“Because I set a record back at the Academy during the combat portion of the bridge officer’s test,” Otabek said smoothly, a smug tone coating his words.

“Now I  _ know _ you’re fucking lying.”

He wasn’t, but Otabek knew that Yuri would never believe him. So instead, he shrugged it off. Yuri was about to open his mouth, when his tricorder beeped. Inputing a few commands, he looked to the east.

“Sensors are picking up something over there,” he said. “It might be Tritanium but uh--” He paused to smack at the gadget. “The Tricorder isn’t working well. It’s like it’s only  _ kind of _ sensing it, but--” He paused and looked back at Otabek. “Can a computer be unsure about something?”

Otabek shook his head, amused. “No, but it’s fine. Let’s head that direction and see what we can find.”

Yuri nodded and they slowly started to pick their way towards the east. The scenery was absurdly vivid, with fantastical plants. There hadn’t been any sign of wildlife proper, but Otabek wasn’t holding his breath. With a breathable atmosphere, there should have been at least  _ something _ around.

Usually, it was harmless, and judging by how the planet looked, probably fluffy and cute.

“You know, this place reminds me of a book I read as a kid,” Otabek said, cocking his head towards a tree that was round with tufty and feather-like tendrils.

“Alice in Wonderland?”

“The Lorax,” Otabek said instead. And then, “Alice in Wonderland?”

Yuri shrugged. “My Grandpa liked to read to me when I was a kid.”

“But why that one specifically?”

“Wonderland’s at least  _ dangerous _ . Nothing about knitting sweaters from trees, or shit like that.”

Otabek rolled his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time. “You just won’t let this go, will you?”

“Hell no.” Yuri slapped at his tricorder again. “I fucking swear, this thing is useless. It’s barely working.”

Otabek turned his attention back towards his own. It had a readout, but it was fuzzy and the output seemed off. Unlike his companion though, he didn’t resort to hitting it. “It’s reading that there is tritanium nearby, but it can’t pinpoint a location.” He paused, glancing over the readings across the scanner’s screen. “I’m not sure what’s causing the interference, but…” He glanced to the east once more. “It seems to know at least a general direction,” Otabek concluded.

Yuri nodded. “So, stay the course.”

They continued east. The purple grass-like flora thinned out, before turning into something waist-high and red in color. They paused against, considering their tricorders once more.

“Well, at least it’s not so…  _ bright _ anymore,” Otabek finally said.

“It looks like we’ve walked into a fucking volcano,” Yuri snapped.

“ _ Yura _ , this is nothing like what a volcano looks like.”

“But it’s so…  _ red _ and you know… red.”

Otabek actually laughed, causing Yuri to sneer at him, his lip curled into an adorable frown. Were they not actively working, Otabek might have reached over to rub his thumb across it. Actually, he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t still.

He was usually good at resisting things, but it was getting to be harder and harder with Yuri.

“What is it?”

“Let’s push on,” Otabek finally said, ignoring the pointed question.

“It’s nothing Yura. Let’s keep going.”

Yuri stepped closer, leaning over Otabek just slightly. Most guys would have hated it. Hell, Otabek would have normally hated it, their height difference. But there was something about Yuri’s height, and his long legs, and how he was always  _ just _ out of reach.

“You’ve been doing that more and more, you know,” he said to Otabek.

“What? Ignoring you?”

“ _ Staring _ .”

At that, Otabek grinned. “Are you complaining?”

Yuri had the gall to look offended at that thought. “ _ No! _ ” He took a breath, collecting himself. “What I mean to say is, no,” he said calmer. “But whatever it is, you need to fucking--”

“Get over it?”

“ _ Figure it out _ .”

Otabek blinked at that. “I thought we did,” he practically hummed. He watched as Yuri swallowed slowly and he knew that he had won this little spat. Yuri agreed with him, it seemed, that they both wanted  _ whatever this was _ .

“This isn’t a good time for this,” Otabek finished with, looking at his scanner once more. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

“No!” Yuri practically yelled. “I’m tired of  _ waiting until later _ . This is the fucking perfect time, as far as I’m concerned. But the longer we push this off, the longer we question it, I--”  

“You what?” Otabek asked bluntly, when Yuri didn’t finish whatever he was saying.

“I’ll regret it,” Yuri said quietly, his voice scratchy from yelling.

But Otabek could tell by the way that he held himself that Yuri didn’t fucking regret it at all, that he had just spouted the first thing that came to mind. And Otabek got it, he really did. This was new and awkward, and neither of them knew how to pursue it. Despite all of his bravado of teasing Yuri, he still didn’t know how to cross that gap between them, because Lord knew that the universe certainly wasn’t making it easy.

Otabek didn’t answer though, fiddling with his scanner, re-reading the output over and over again. Fuzzy results, but tritanium seemed to be due east.

“Otabek,” Yuri said quietly.

But he wasn’t in the mood, really. “Let’s just keep heading east--”

“ _ Beka _ ,” Yuri pleaded, and there was something in his voice that was different, something that was  _ off _ . Then he yelped slightly, and there was a scuffling sound, and Otabek  _ finally _ looked and--

Yuri was held tightly in a headlock by some sort of reptilian-humanoid creature. It was big and scaly, and very different than the bright and vibrant planet they had been trekking through. Yuri kicked at him, trying to worm his way out of his arms, but to no avail. Despite his height, his slim build had no chance against the stocky alien that held him in a choke hold.

It chirped something that their communicators couldn’t decipher, but it was too late-- Otabek had already set off. He moved faster than most would have thought, considering his solid stock, but he dumped his scanner to the side and ran towards the pair of them.

Yuri yelped as the alien yanked on his hair, pulling at the braid harshly with his clawed hands. Metal glinted at his throat, a wicked looking knife just barely digging into the skin there.

Otabek saw red as he grabbed a hold of the alien. He knew he didn’t have time to yank him off of Yuri, and Victor would  _ absolutely _ kill him for what he planned to do but... there wasn’t any other option. Otabek reached up and gripped the alien’s jawline tightly in his hands and jerked as hard as he could. With a loud crack, its neck snapped with a sickening sound, and the alien went limp before slumping to the ground in a heap.

Yuri and Otabek stood there, dazed and heaving.

“You--” Yuri started, but the words didn’t come, only heavy breaths as he tried to process what had just happened.

And Otabek already regretted it. He shouldn’t have  _ killed _ the stupid creature, he should have subdued it another way. But there had been the knife, and then Yuri in danger and all of his reason had gone flying out the fucking window.

This was a first contact situation and Victor was going to absolutely  _ murder _ him. But first--

“Yura,” Otabek croaked, taking a step towards him. Yuri gaped at him, and then his gaze dropped to the alien to the ground. “ _ Yura _ ,” he repeated. “Are you okay?”

The man responded by literally  _ throwing _ himself at Otabek, nearly knocking him over in the process. Yuri’s fingers found his face, yanking him up harshly and--

Well, for once, the universe  _ didn’t fucking interrupt _ .

 

* * *

 

Yuri had absolutely no idea what had come over him.

In fact, he still wasn’t sure what exactly had even happened. One moment something had pulled him into a death grip, and then the next, it was dead on the ground, his neck twisted into an unnatural angle.

It hadn’t been an argument. It wasn’t even a spat, it was just him and Otabek throwing heated words at each other, like they always did when they flirted. Yeah, Yuri could finally call it that. And then it had gotten awkward, and he had been about to try and fix it, when he looked up and there was this  _ thing _ . 

It had been stalking them like some sort of fucking hunter.

Yuri hadn’t been fast enough to warn Otabek and the alien had gotten ahold of him. And he had known that it would be the end, that this was how he and Otabek would die, stranded on a planet in the middle of fucking nowhere. He had  _ fucking told him so _ .

And then Otabek had jumped on the creature like a bat out of hell, snapping his neck in half with literally no effort.

_ It was the single most hottest thing, Yuri had ever witnessed in his life _ .

Sure, he’d heard about Otabek’s apparent combat prowess, and yeah it was a little bit creepy that it caused his hormones to rage like he was a fucking fourteen year old with a decent internet connection. And he just couldn’t  _ not  _ fucking jump his damn bones.

He half expected Otabek to pull away in confusion, to tell him that this  _ super wasn’t the time to be making out _ . But he didn’t. Otabek snaked one arm around Yuri’s neck, pulling him closer, his other hand slinking down his side to settle at his waist.

Yuri waited for whatever it was in the universe that would interrupt them, but nothing fucking did. He could have kissed the heavens, really he could have.

Kissing Otabek wasn’t like kissing a girl. They were always soft, with full lips that gave into him, tasting like fruits or cupcakes, or whatever lip gloss that had chosen. Otabek was all angles and unrelenting power. Sandalwood and cinnamon and even fucking  _ grease _ . Yuri didn’t care. He gripped Otabek’s jaw tightly, leaning over him,  _ into _ him and it wasn’t enough.

They pulled apart for a second to breathe.

And then Otabek yanked Yuri’s face down again, pushing at him. They stumbled until Yuri’s back hit a tree. That’s where they stopped, lips pressed together in a heated lock, fingers skimming down sides, pulling at the fabric of their jumpsuits.

Yuri had never been so fucking angry at a full-bodied piece of clothing in his entire life, because his fingers  _ itched _ to touch skin, to see how soft it was at his hipline, because Otabek’s fingers were rough and calloused.

Otabek must have felt the same too, his fingers digging in just a little bit too harshly.

“Otabek, I--” Yuri started, pulling away again. Despite his heavy breaths, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Yura,” Otabek breathed, pressing him into the tree, slotting their legs together and pressing his hips closer and--

Yuri swallowed, resisting the urge to make an  _ incredibly _ bad pun, because Otabek couldn’t hide how fucking  _ hard _ he was anymore. Yuri groaned, feeling his own heat pool south. This would officially be the most confusing boner he’d ever popped. “Beka, I’ve-- uh…”

He was usually more articulate than this. Yuri wasn’t some blushing virgin. No, he knew his way around the bedroom. He’d worn more girls on his arm than he cared to think about. But this was different entirely.

Otabek was hot and heavy, pressed against him and Yuri didn’t want it to end. He’d finally figured it out, whatever this was, and he  _ needed _ it. Otabek shifted their positions slightly, hitching Yuri’s leg over his hip, and the friction between them was heavenly.

Yuri panicked. It was stupid, this was  _ Otabek _ . But it was Otabek, and he didn’t want to fuck it up. “I’ve never done this with a--” It was a really stupid thing to try and say, because Otabek already fucking knew that. This was new to them  _ both _ .

“ _ Yura _ ,” he groaned.

“It’s just that--  _ Jesus Christ, I don’t know how to say this-- _ ”

“ _ Yura, shut the fuck up _ .”

Yuri expected Otabek to just lose it and ravish him, but he didn’t. Yuri had shut up, and Otabek just waited, like the fucking gentleman that he was. The engineer raised a hand to Yuri’s face, his fingers gripping his chin lightly as he ran his thumb across his lip. He was asking, Yuri realized, giving him the option. He fell into the motion happily, dropping his face for their lips to meet again.

They were sloppy, trying to figure out what the other wanted. But it was perfect, it was so fucking perfect, and it was  _ worth _ being constantly interrupted because if this was what kissing Otabek was going to be like--

And then Yuri felt it, the little tingle in his spine. The one that you got right before someone  _ beamed you somewhere else _ . And the panic rose in him again as Otabek pressed his hips hard against him, partly pissed off because  _ of course this would happen. _

Of course it would be  _ right fucking then _ .

 

* * *

 

“ _ You just had to trip over that root, right? _ ”

Victor pouted at the voice of his boyfriend reaching him through the comm badge, trying to ignore JJ’s laughter as he rubbed his ankle. At least it was not swollen, and therefore most likely not sprained.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Victor muttered. “It’s not my fault that the roots on this planet tend to grow upwards.”

“Would you please stop making such noise?” Seung-gil said to JJ, rolling his eyes. “This is an away mission on a foreign planet, and we have no idea what the life forms on it are like. They might interpret your laughter as a warning call or-”

“I think that Professor Krönke mentioned in her lecture about alien linguistics and first contact regulations that laughter is, in fact, universal,” Victor said and got up again, carefully taking a few steps. “But keep the noise down to a minimum, JJ. I don’t want to run into the locals at this point of our mission.” He gestured at the stone wall behind them that depicted a rather violent and gory scene of a beheading.

“This would be something for Chulanont,” Seung-gil remarked, looking down at the scanner in his hands. “So, there should be tritanium in the area, but there are some signals messing with our systems. I cannot determine where exactly it is.”

“ _ Our scans are not working properly either _ ,” Yuuri said. “ _ We were able to determine Otabek and Yuri’s location roughly one mile away from you. Sensors indicate that they might have encountered a local, but it is not following them. _ ”

“Knowing Otabek, he probably killed it if it attacked them,” Victor said, exchanging a knowing look with Seung-gil and JJ. “Are there more in the area?”

“ _ Not within the next twelve miles, _ ” Yuuri replied. “ _ It seems that it was on its own for some reason. _ ”

“Maybe an outcast,” JJ remarked.

“As long as Otabek and Yuri are safe, we do not have time to worry about that,” Victor murmured.

“ _ But they are not moving either, _ ” Yuuri added. “ _ It seems that Yuri and Otabek are still in the same spot. _ ”

“Maybe they have found tritanium,” JJ suggested.

“Or they realised they’re finally alone and going at it,” Victor muttered under his breath. “Yuuri, can you contact them?”

“ _ We are trying to establish a connection, _ ” Yuuri said after briefly discussing it with Minami. “ _ But it seems that there’s a lot of interference. We’re trying to figure out what the cause is. Hang tight, and we’ll get back to you, Captain.” _

“Is it just me or has the wind changed?” JJ asked and looked up at the sky. Victor and Seung-gil did the same, watching as purple clouds gathered above them, blocking the smaller one of the two suns.

“If this were earth I’d say it's going to rain,” Victor said just as Yuuri’s voice reached them again.

“I’m sorry, Victor, but we have to beam you up,” he said nervously. “There is a storm coming and Leo said the rain might be most likely acidic.”

Victor sighed. “Okay. We will get the tritanium after the storm, then. Three crew members ready for transport.”

 

* * *

 

Victor hated transporters. They made him feel sick, they messed with his head, and they made his knees feel as if they were made of gum. But he had never been so relieved to have them than he was now.

The moment he was able to move again he almost stumbled over his own feet, barely managing to reach for the railing that had been placed next to the transporters for this exact reason. At least, he was not the only one struggling with the sudden change of location, as Yuri promptly knocked over Otabek and they both fell like freshly cut trees. Only Seung-gil stepped off the platform and smoothed out his uniform as if nothing had happened at all, albeit a little paler than usual.

“Victor!” A pair of hands had reached out for him and pulled him to his feet, and the beautiful eyes of Yuuri Katsuki appeared in front of him, filled with worry, worry dedicated to him. “Are you alright? Are you feeling well? Are you injured?” Yuuri’s voice hitched in his throat, and Victor quickly pulled the smaller man against his chest and kissed his hair.

“I’m feeling great, my Yuuri,” he assured him. “My knees are just wobbly because I was not prepared to be greeted by Mister Universe himself.”

“Oh, Victor,” Yuuri whispered and blushed deeply at his flirtation.

“Gross,” Yuri spat in the background, detangling himself from Otabek, who was rubbing the back of his head. Both were red in the face, a little too close to each other and not-at-all fooling  _ anyone _ . Especially with all of their awkward shuffling of their clothes around.

“Why, you seem rather close,” Victor joked, only for Yuri to promptly yell some sort of insult at him, but Victor couldn’t have cared less. The door behind them opened once more, only to reveal a worried Maya searching for Otabek. At the sight of him and Yuri on the floor, practically tangled in each other, she began to grin like a cheshire cat, watching the two adjust to their new surroundings.

“You’re alright there, Beka?” She asked with a wicked grin, one that she usually reserved for her brother whenever she’d seen right through him.

_ Oh _ .

Otabek gave an incomprehensible answer in Kazakh, and she walked over to him to help him and Yuri stand. They both looked slightly dishevelled, but otherwise fine. Aside from shifting around to hide their  _ very obvious problems _ . Neither succeeded too well.

“I think you both need a drink,” she said. “You too, Commander,” she added, looking at Seung-Gil. “You seem pale.”

“This is my natural complexion, thank you,” he replied stiffly.

Victor laughed at his friends’ antics, glad that they were fine as he returned his attention to Yuuri, cupping his cheeks and kissing him tenderly.

“You did a great job while I was away,” he said, pushing a strand of hair out of his lover’s face.

“Thank you,” Yuuri murmured. “But please take over now. I’ve never felt so out of place before.”

“That will change,” Victor assured him and kissed his forehead once more before adjusting his uniform. “Otabek, do you have the tritanium?”

“I have a general location,” Otabek muttered, still rubbing the back of his head. “With a little bit more work, we should be able to pinpoint an exact area. And then we’ll need to find a way to manufacture it into the right part.”

“The briefing comes first,” Victor replied.

“I need to shower first,” Otabek said, gesturing at his uniform that was covered in god-knows-what.

“Preferably a cold one?” Maya suggested.

The look Otabek gave her would have been able to kill thousands at once.

“One step at a time,” Seung-gil said before the situation could escalate and reached out for Yuri, who promptly began to protest, but Seung-gil merely pushed up the other man’s sleeve and inspected a still lightly bleeding cut on his arm. “First Giacometti needs to look after any injuries.”

“Yes, of course,” Victor agreed, looking down at his foot that still hurt a little bit from his fall before briefly looking at the others to check for any further injuries. “Ensign, what is that on your throat?” He asked as he studied Yuri from head to toe. Otabek spun the pilot around to face him, but Yuri freed himself from his grasp, covering the thin scratch on his throat with his hand. Seung-gil grabbed the pilot’s wrist and pulled his hand away, ignoring Yuri’s foulmouthed protest.

“That looks like someone tried to slice your throat, Ensign,” Seung-gil said.

“Otabek,” Victor said slowly. “Care to tell me what happened down there?”

“At the briefing,” Otabek replied in a tense voice. “Yuri is injured.”

“Otabek-”

“Plisetsky needs medical attention, and so do you,” Seung-gil interrupted them, gesturing at Victor’s ankle. Yuuri whispered his agreement, gently tugging on Victor’s hand.

The captain sighed. He knew Otabek, and whatever it was that had happened down there, it was certainly going to give him a headache and a massive stack of paperwork. But getting those that were injured stitched up had to come first.

“Fine. You will tell me at the briefing,” Victor said, shooting a warning glance at Otabek. “To sickbay with all of you. Are you alright, Commander?” He asked, turning towards Seung-gil.

“Certainly,” Seung-gil replied, still with the dignity of a nobleman of the 19th century. “If you’ll excuse me, then.” He adjusted his uniform and brushed the dirt from his trousers before walking out of the transporter room, his expression stoic as always.

“Why does Commander Lee seem so unfazed by the transporter?” Yuuri asked, watching the man disappear through the door.

“Wait for it,” JJ smirked, and just as he closed his mouth, they could hear Seung-gil start running towards the restrooms.

Victor chuckled. “He does not want anyone to know that these things actually upset his stomach,” he said and kissed Yuuri’s temple lightly. Would he ever grow tired of kissing him? Of touching him?

Probably not.

“Let Chris take a look at your ankle, then,” Yuuri said softly, gently tugging on Victor’s hand.

“I think our pilot needs him more urgently than I do,” Victor said, looking at Yuri, who had helped Otabek to stand, completely ignoring the bleeding cut on his arm. “Ensign. Go and get your arm treated. That is an order.”

“Come,” Otabek said before Yuri could even open his mouth, and to everyone’s surprise, Yuri obeyed. The two of them left the transporter room without a fight.

“Believe what you want,” Maya said once they were gone. “But if they don’t fuck within the next twenty four hours, I’ll quit.”

 

* * *

 

An hour later, Chris had taken care of every cut, ankle, and upset stomach that there was, allowing them all to go back to their posts. Although drinking was strictly prohibited on the bridge, Maya had poured everyone a small glass of schnapps to soothe their nerves. Victor had not even realised how stirred up he’d been until the alcohol burnt its way down his throat, and he felt a little better. Even Yuuri’s face returned to a healthy colour again, and Victor was fairly sure that the drink that Maya had poured Seung-gil was not schnapps but a little bit of his favourite wine.

At least someone kept an eye on the lonely Korean, Victor thought as he took a seat in the captain’s chair.

“Alright,” he sighed. “We’ll wait until Otabek has changed into his usual  _ attire _ , then we can begin with the briefing and-”

“Victor, you have to look at this.”

If Victor had not been there to witness it, he would have claimed that there was no way that Yuuri Katsuki could ever sound so serious. He looked at his boyfriend who had turned away from his computer, one hand remaining on the interface as the other had been brought up to his left ear - as if he were listening to a new transmission.

But that was not possible.

“What’s wrong?” Victor asked, preparing himself for the worst.

What if they had not been careful enough, and the civilisation from the planet below had them on their radars and were planning an attack?

“We just received message from a planet close to us.”

The entire bridge went very, very quiet.

Even their pilot stared at Yuuri with an expression that Victor would have never thought to see on the young Russian’s face.

This was not good.

“From the planet below?” Victor asked, moving from his chair towards Yuuri, taking a look at the screen, only to realise that he could not read a single thing.

“No, from… from another planet we haven’t scanned yet,” Yuuri explained quickly. “But they must be rather close.”

“What does it say?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri admitted, quickly enlarging the screen. “This is just the message translated into the most basic IPA that-”

“Basic what?” Yuri interrupted him.

“International Phonetic Alphabet,” Yuuri explained, looking at the pilot. “It allows us to read the message the way it is supposed to be pronounced but it doesn’t tell us anything about its content.” He looked up at Victor again, biting his lip. “I… I cannot promise anything, since even the computer is stuck on this, but I can try to manually decrypt it, but only if there are parallels to languages that we already encountered.”

Victor did not even have to look at Yuuri’s face to know that the anxiety was threatening to take over his boyfriend. Not only were they in a desperate situation - they were all under the immense pressure to perform perfectly in order to get home, and he knew that Yuuri liked to blame himself for even minor things. It was as if Yuuri was unable to acknowledge the fact that he had a PhD in Xenolinguistics, that he was one of the co-editors of the Matsushiba Universal Dictionary for Alien Languages, that he was one of the few who actually spoke Drichan.

If only Yuuri could see how amazing he was.

“Try it, Lieutenant,” Victor said, patting his shoulder firmly. “Take all the time you need. Minami and Commander Lee will surely be happy to help if you need them.” He gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, hoping that it would encourage Yuuri, but the Japanese man looked as if he were about to faint.

Nonetheless, Yuuri took a deep breath, staring at the screen in front of him, at the audio lines that were waiting to be deciphered by him.

Victor knew that Yuuri had been in this situation before; countless times, actually. At the Academy, deciphering recordings of alien languages had been a firm part of the curriculum, and Yuuri had told him that he had spent countless hours and sleepless nights in the audio chamber, practising and taking notes in order to get the right result, the perfect result. He had cracked the hardest dialects, from rural Hat’chen to academic Bygspak that mainly consisted of non-pulmonic consonants.

But this was a language no one had ever heard before.

“Yuuri?”

Victor’s voice was soft, as if he were trying not to startle him, not knowing that interrupting Yuuri in such a situation was definitely the wrong thing to do. Yuuri swallowed thickly, grabbing the edges of the console.

“Headphones,” Yuuri murmured to himself. “I need headphones.” He pushed back his chair and knelt down on the floor, searching for the soundproof headphones under the console that would shield him from any distracting noises. “Load the universal dictionary… transcribe the sounds... determine the pitch…”

The entire bridge crew watched in awe as Yuuri went to work, mumbling absentmindedly to himself. Victor couldn’t help but stare at him, realising that Yuuri had gone into linguist mode, and that it was best to not disturb him. Yuuri kept talking, reminding himself of the steps as if they were his personal mantra as he pulled out the headphones and entered a few things into the computer, loading the universal dictionary that he had helped building. The hologram that appeared in front of him was huge, a mess of complicated signs that neither Victor nor the others had ever seen before, but Yuuri navigated his way through them with ease, eventually whipping out a piece of ordinary paper and a pen as he clicked ‘play’, listening to the foreign message on repeat.

At first, it seemed as if Yuuri were staring into the void only, as if he had frozen on his seat. But then, all of a sudden, he began to write, scribbling on his little piece of paper, stopping every few seconds to listen to the message again, crossing out what he had just written, replacing it with new notes, simultaneously flipping through the digital universal dictionary with one hand as if it were nothing.

“Holy shit, Katsuki,” Victor heard someone whisper, but Yuuri didn’t hear them.

“Rikani elements,” Yuuri muttered to himself, loading a different section of the universal dictionary to the screen whilst transferring his handwritten notes to the computer, expanding the screen to get a better look. “Of all things it  _ had  _ to be Rikani, of course, this language is like the plague and infests everything…”

Victor took a small step forward, staring at the mess of complicated symbols that made absolutely no sense to him, but seemed to mean the world to Yuuri. It was an alien language, a foreign writing system that Victor had never seen before, but Yuuri navigated his way through it with ease, combining it with his notes, transforming the message into something that Victor could identify as a phonetic alphabet.

“Chta,” Yuuri said, shaking his head. “xt̬ɑ. xːdɑ.” Yuuri kept repeating the word, over and over again like a broken record as he tried to get it right. “Xːdɑ. θəːɔɾæŋðɛːŋko… go… nɪ... nːɪ... ʌvaʒda... oh fuck it…” It was the first time they heard Yuuri curse, but it made Victor smile, and he watched in awe as Yuuri dug his way through this strange language, decrypting it bit by bit. “Voiceless labial-velar fricatives… voiced implosives only at the end of an adjective… epiglottal plosives never to be used when speaking to a deity if they’re anything like the Rikans…”

“Frica-what,” Yuri repeated, glancing at Victor. “The fuck is he talking about?”

Victor couldn’t help but smile. “He’s learning a new language as we speak,” he said, his chest swelling with pride for the usually so shy communications officer. “That is linguistics, Ensign.”

“I studied xenolinguistics for a while at the academy. I knew that Lieutenant Katsuki was good,” Seung-Gil murmured. “But  _ damn _ .”

Victor couldn’t agree more with his second-in-command. Watching Yuuri do what he loved was mesmerising. It was like witnessing the development of a new force unknown to mankind before as well as the taming of it. With every word, every syllable that he deciphered, Yuuri’s smile seemed to grow wider, his fingers dancing over the keyboard as he took notes, listening to the alien message over and over again, eventually repeating it by heart, the pronunciation becoming more refined with each try.

And then, all of a sudden, a second text field appeared on the hologram screen, this time written in letters and in a language that they all knew.

Yuuri took off his headphones and turned around, his cheeks reddened from the rush. He blushed even more as he found the entire bridge staring at him with wide eyes, and even Yuri seemed at loss for words.

“I hope it is accurate enough,” he said timidly to Victor and gestured at his English translation. “It’s a peaceful message, thankfully. They are asking us for a meeting with their sovereign, I couldn’t quite find out whether that sovereign is like a king or more like a dictator since the words are very similar in Rikani but-”

Before he knew what was happening he found himself in a tight embrace, blushing all over as Victor hugged him in excitement. 

“That was absolutely brilliant!” He exclaimed. “You should have seen yourself!”

Yuuri swallowed thickly, trying to escape the captain’s grasp. “I only did my job-”

“An excellent job,” Seung-Gil said with an approving nod, reading the translated message a few times. “I assume you already composed an answer, too?”

“Y-Yes,” Yuuri said nervously and finally managed to escape Victor’s embrace, tapping the screen. “I did a translation of our standard greeting and added a few honorifics.”

“Good,” Seung-Gil said, looking at Victor. “We should send the message as soon as possible, or we’ll risk that they change their minds.”

“Right, yes,” Victor agreed and took a seat again, tapping the armrest in both nervousness and excitement. “Permission to answer is granted.”

Yuuri sat back down and grabbed the headphones with the microphone, clearing his throat once more before reading out the Starfleet Standard Greeting in the new language, the sounds of it feeling strange on his tongue. “Dakh théngya ko’olpyo kine. Kammy’ö olpoko non nin desh-ya. Starfleet wak yenchén yoksai neph. Alaik grêt kanpanqai.”

Yuuri finished the recording and listened to it two more times before he hit the ‘send’ button, exhaling deeply.

Barely two minutes later, the computer beeped once more, this time able to translate the message on its own.

“ _ The people of Berendar would be delighted to meet under peaceful circumstances. Please state conditions for first contact. _ ”

Victor clasped his hands, taking a deep breath. “Chulanont?”

“Yes?” Phichit stepped forward, his voice slightly higher than usual in surprise.

Victor turned around in his chair. “Ready for first contact, Mr. Charisma?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told everyone who's here for the Otayuri, that good things come to those who are patient.


	12. Greasing the Engine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MissMarquin: I have literally been waiting since before the prologue, to write this chapter.
> 
> Theangryuniverse: I can only agree. It was about fucking time.
> 
> Some of you have asked us about an update schedule, when we're planning to post new chapters etc. The truth is that we simply cannot give you any promises. MissMarquin lives in the US, I live in Germany. We sleep when the other one is awake (or should be sleeping, I'm looking at you there Jess), and we both have jobs, several health issues, and in my case, university. As much as we'd like to have a proper update schedule, we simply cannot have one. We wouldn't be able to stick to it. We write when we have time, and we usually update as soon as we've finished a chapter after a final read through. 
> 
> Regarding the structure of this story: Each arc will be its own story. That means that once they've saved the day and have gone home to earth, this story will end. The sequel will be posted within the To Boldly Go series, so make sure to subscribe to the SERIES, not just to this fic, if you want more space shenanigans. And believe me, there WILL be a sequel - after all, we want to see Sara and Michele and Emil, right?   
> And will Seung-gil ever find life and love?   
> Will Victor and Yuuri get married and have kids (or mini Makkachins?)  
> And what will Otabek's parents say? ;)  
> Yep, you want the sequel, believe me.

**_Greasing the Engine_ **

 

* * *

 

They never really used Victor’s briefing room.

The Captain was kind of informal at his best, so when he needed to speak with officers privately, he just went to them instead. But Seung-gil had insisted for propriety’s sake, and Victor was one thousand percent sure it had to do with the gash on Yuri’s neck.

It hadn’t looked that bad all-in-all, but Yuri had been wildly uncomfortable about it, and he knew that it wasn’t because he and Otabek had been one breath away from fucking each other. 

Yeah, he wasn’t blind, but  _ that _ was a conversation for later.

All necessary senior officer’s sat around the table, including Phichit. Yuri was there too, personally involved, leaning heavily against Otabek’s direction, his fingers clinging onto the engineer’s sleeve, like he was afraid that he might disappear. Seung-gil frowned at the two of them, ready to say something about their inappropriate behavior, but Victor had motioned for him to  _ leave it be _ .

Really, that was an issue for another time.

“Well, that was an adventure!” Victor chirped, trying to keep the moment light. The room practically  _ groaned _ at his tone.

“Yeah, some fucking adventure--” Yuri snapped, before Seung-gil  _ finally _ said something.

“ _ Ensign!” _

“Yeah, yeah, shut my trap. Got it.”

Victor hummed at that, motioning to Otabek. “Since I was in the other party, why don’t you tell us what happened, Otabek?”

“We headed due east, after we split,” he said simply, shifting to cross his arms across his chest. Yuri reluctantly let go, moving to wring his fingers in his lap. “Our tricorder readings were fuzzy at best, but they at least indicated towards that way.”

“We had the same issue,” JJ cut in. “Couldn’t read a damn thing.”

“Storm interference,” Yuuri explained. “It took awhile for the long-range scanners on the ship to figure it out, but the acid storm that was brewing was throwing everything out of whack.”

“It pissed me off,” Yuri finally said, a little bit of his bite creeping back into his tone. “Nothing worse than trying to work, when you can’t fuc--” He paused, composing himself. “When you can’t figure things out,” he finished with.

Well, at least he was trying to curb his language. It was more than Victor expected, if he were to be honest.

“Anyway,” Otabek said, steering the conversation back towards him, “Yuri and I headed due east, because the scanners showed that there might be tritanium that direction.” Otabek paused, as if he were not sure how to continue. “We then were attacked by an alien native of the planet. Some humanoid creature, scaly and--” He paused, collecting his thoughts. “It had managed to grab Ensign Plisetsky before either of us were able to react accordingly. I…” Otabek sighed. “I had to kill it before it could kill Yuri.”

“He had no choice, Captain,” Yuri said quickly, leaning forward as if to shield Otabek from view. “If anything, it’s my fault, I was rather loud and-”

“Ensign,” Victor said calmly, raising his hand a little. “I’m fully aware of Otabek’s abilities. If he deemed it necessary to solve the… conflict this way, then I trust his judgement.”

Yuri stared at Victor in disbelief, but the moment that Otabek pressed his fingers into his back gently, the young pilot sat back. It wasn’t often the Yuri was  _ quiet _ , but it suited him.

Victor could barely hide his smile. Oh, these two were definitely made for each other. It was clear how Otabek was able to rein in the fiery temper of the boy.

“Nonetheless, this was an unsuccessful first contact situation,” Seung-gil remarked. “We have to report this, Captain.”

Victor scratched his head, giving the First Officer a certain look that the Korean only knew too well.

“Victor!” Seung-gil snapped. “You cannot just bend the rules in every way you like!”

“I would consider this an extraordinary situation, Commander,” JJ said carefully. “We have no time for formalities. Yes, maybe we should report this, but not until we have figured out how to get home.”

Seung-gil huffed, muttering something that sounded very much like “anarchy” under his breath but said nothing more.

Victor knew he would have to suffer for this later.

“Well, then,” he said, clearing his throat. “We have received a message from the people of Berendar. Yuuri here managed to create a translation basis, which will allow us to communicate with them. Their last message was a request to meet in a neutral environment. I therefore suggested the  _ Agape _ .”

Everyone at the table nodded in agreement.

“Phichit is trained for situations like this,” Yuuri said, gesturing at his friend. The Thai smiled, waving at everyone in greeting, a translation of the last message on the table in front of them.

“First, we have to get the ship close enough to Berendar in order to beam them up,” Phichit said. “Altin, can the engines deal with that?”

Otabek nodded. “We cannot go at full speed, but we should be able to get there within a few hours. The problem is,” he tapped the screen embedded in the table, producing a hologram of the engine in its current state for everyone to see. “I need to shut down the engine completely-- and not only for the necessary repairs. Right now, the engine is barely containing itself and sooner or later it will overheat and eventually blow up. We’ve already seen what happens when things go boom, and I’m not willing to risk it.”

Yuuri paled at that, and Victor immediately reached across the table to take his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. They might not have known each other for long, but Victor already knew him well enough to know what things caused Yuuri to panic. And since he was afraid of space in general, even the slightest disturbances sent the Japanese man into panic mode.

Seung-gil nodded. “But what about the tritanium?” He asked. “We need it for the engines.”

“We will have to get that later. Priority at the moment is making sure nothing blows us to kingdom come,” Otabek replied. “Maybe we’’ll get lucky and Berendar has it.”

“Well, we will find out soon enough,” Victor concluded. So far, the messages sent by the Berendi had sounded peaceful, and Victor prayed that their first contact would be a successful one. In the past, he had often been present in such crucial moments, although always as a First Officer, never as a Captain.

Captain Zhao had always known what to do. People had trusted her immediately.

Victor was determined to not disappoint her, the woman that he owed so much.

“Should we let them know about our situation?” Yuri asked from his seat next to Otabek.

“I don’t think we should,” JJ said. “They might use our weakness to attack us.”

“I think they are already aware of our… problems,” Yuuri said, pulling his hand away from Victor’s, showing them the last message. “This is clearly an offer of help. They surely do not know what is wrong in detail, but since we are not moving and some systems have been shut down, they probably concluded that we are in trouble and in need of help.” He looked at Victor. “Phichit can handle this. If he is sure they mean no harm, then we can tell them about our current situation in greater detail.”

Victor placed his hand on top of Yuuri’s again, unable to keep himself from touching his boyfriend (yes, boyfriend!!) for longer than necessary.

“Plisetsky, get the coordinates for Berendar and set sail,” he said, causing Yuri to roll his eyes.

“This isn’t a boat.”

“Let me make my jokes, yeah?” Victor rose from his chair and smoothed out his uniform. “I’m glad that no one got seriously hurt or injured. Seung-gil, how is your stomach?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” the Korean replied sourly.

 

* * *

 

After the briefing, everyone parted ways. Phichit had advised them all to go and rest before meeting with the Berendi, and Otabek and Yuri had immediately followed his advice. Victor had watched them leave without a word, suspecting that Otabek would sooner or later tell him what had truly happened on the planet between him and Yuri. But then again, the Kazakh was a man of few words, and he would take his time before opening up to anyone about it. 

At least it seemed that Otabek and Yuri were finally getting closer.

He probably owed Maya ten bucks.

“Do you want to sleep alone tonight?” Victor asked Yuuri as they left the briefing room together and made their way towards the lifts. “I understand if you need some time to yourself or-”

“I’d like to sleep in your room again if that’s okay,” Yuuri interrupted him softly and intertwined their fingers. “I don’t think we should be alone right now.” He bit his lower lip, moving a little closer to Victor. “With everything that’s happening at the moment, I mean. With the Berendi and the engine… I sound stupid, right?”

Victor shook his head and pulled Yuuri closer by the hand, kissing his forehead. “Absolutely not. You are a very rational thinker, actually. And this is indeed an extraordinary situation in which no one should be left alone. This is why I’m so glad to have you. I know that others are not that lucky. For example, I wonder if Seung-gil will sleep well tonight. I personally doubt it. He tends to overthink everything. Oh, and he’s probably still mad at me for not immediately filing a report.”

“He’ll forget about it, eventually,” Yuuri assured him. “Maybe we should eat something first and then get some sleep.”

“I agree,” Victor said and squeezed his hand. “And I’m in the mood for another drink. I’ll go to the bar and get us some good booze and you wait for me in my room, yeah? You know the password.”

“I actually don’t,” Yuuri frowned. “What is it?”

Victor chuckled, leaning forward to whisper into his ear. “Yuuri-bootylicious.”

“Victor!” Yuuri gasped and pushed him away in shock, blushing from head to toe, much to Victor’s amusement. 

“It’s the truth,” Victor chuckled and pecked his boyfriend’s (yes, boyfriend!!) cheek. “I’ll see you there. Give me ten minutes, alright?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Yuuri muttered, still as red as a tomato, and turned away towards the lift.

Victor waited until his boyfriend (he couldn’t believe that Yuuri was his actual boyfriend!) was out of sight, then took the other lift to get to the bar, determined to steal some of Maya’s finer drinks for a calm night. Only then, as he was alone in the turbolift, Victor realised what was about to happen the following day.

They would have an actual first contact situation with a people no human had ever encountered before.

And this could easily end very, very badly.

Victor remembered the first time he had met an unknown alien race very clearly. Captain Tanya Zhao had requested him personally to come with her, and they had beamed down to the planet to meet a delegation of the alien government. And oh, Victor had been shit-scared of it all. But Captain Zhao had been his rock. She had remained calm at all times, all the while assuring Victor that it was absolutely normal and human to be afraid. That no one was perfect and able to perform according to the book in dangerous situations.

Not only because of that Victor had always seen Tanya Zhao as one of the most capable members of Starfleet.

She had not deserved to die in such a useless way.

Victor sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as the doors of the lift opened and he stepped into  _ Dark Matter _ .

Maya stood at the bar, looking through several bottles of wine as he approached her. She seemed tired and like many others, unable to get any rest. Victor truly couldn’t blame her.

“I did not know we had that much wine on the ship,” Victor said as he sat down at the bar. “Seung-gil is a lucky man.”

Maya smiled a little. “Commander Lee is probably the only one on this ship who knows to appreciate this stuff,” she said, gesturing at the bottles to her left. “But I guess you’re not here to talk to me about wine, Victor.” She leant against the counter, looking at him expectantly. “What can I do for you?”

“I need a bottle of something that’ll calm myself and Yuuri down, but won’t get us heavily drunk,” Victor said. “Do you have something like that?”

“You mean like this 2014 Riesling?” Maya asked and pulled out a wine bottle, placing it on the counter between them. “It’s excellent stuff. The taste is fruity but not too sweet. Perfect to unwind after a day like this.”

Victor took the bottle, studying the label briefly. “Sounds good.”

“And it’s also Commander Lee’s favourite, for some reason,” Maya added softly and continued with her work.

Victor studied the woman curiously as it slowly dawned on him. Why Maya seemed to keep an eye on the Korean. Why Seung-gil preferred to sit at the bar and not at a table whenever he came to the lounge.

And since he knew very well about Seung-gil’s non-existent dating history, Victor suddenly felt very much like a proud father watching his child taking its first steps.

“He’s single, you know,” Victor hummed, slipping from the bar stool with the bottle of wine in his hands. “And he’s quite the catch, has a good name and everything.”

“Victor.” Maya clasped her hands, leaning over the counter and fixating him with her famous stare that the Russian knew far too well from Otabek. Really, what was it with these two? “Do you know how refreshing it is to have a straight man being respectful towards you? Don’t get me wrong, I love all of you, and I don’t mind that half of all men on this ship are gay. But the straight dudes here are shit, and you know it. Seung-gil is one of the very few that treat me like a person, and not like a walking pair of breasts. And for that he has my gratitude. Read into that however you like.”

She grabbed the bottles to her left and put them back into the cupboard behind her. “Since you’re here, what is the plan for now? I couldn’t get a hold of Otabek yet to find out more.” She huffed. “He’s probably taking the coldest shower of his life right now.”

Victor was wise enough to let the topic ‘Seung-gil’ drop. “We’ll meet with the Berendi on the  _ Agape  _ tomorrow,” he said. “On neutral ground. Then we’ll see if they’re trustworthy, but Yuuri is positive that the meeting will be successful.”

“Hm.” Maya turned around again, grabbing the rest of the bottles. “How is Yuuri coping now? He was a mess while you were gone. Shaking like a leaf the entire time.”

Oh, that sounded indeed very much like his Yuuri.

“He’s got anxiety,” Victor explained. “He constantly questions himself, regardless of his qualifications.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Maya smiled. “You were almost shitting your pants when you took your final exams. And then you graduated with a perfect score and even one year early.”

Victor remembered that time far too well. He had been an anxious wreck that day, had barely slept or eaten, and Seung-gil had literally shoven a piece of toast down his throat the morning of his final exam.

But Yuuri was different. Yuuri was strong, even when his anxiety became too much and threatened to overwhelm him. Yuuri never gave up. Yuuri embraced his anxiety because he really had no other choice, and that made him the bravest man on the entire ship to Victor.

His anxiety was probably the only thing that kept Yuuri from achieving the rank of a Commander.

“What do you think, Maya?” Victor asked eventually, slipping from the bar stool with the wine bottle in his hand. “Do you think we’ll succeed?”

Maya nodded without hesitation. “Yes. Simply because we do not have another choice.”

And once more, Victor Nikiforov had to admit that the woman running the lounge saw clearer than many others.

She would have made a fine Lieutenant indeed.

 

* * *

 

Otabek took the coldest fucking shower of his entire life, after they had beamed back.

And then there had been the briefing. Victor didn’t scare him, but sometimes Starfleet rules did, and Otabek had committed a  _ huge _ fucking no-no, when it came to conducting away missions-- he killed an alien in a first-contact situation.

Yuri had defended him though. Otabek hadn’t been  _ concerned _ , per se, but he wasn’t remotely surprised that it had been Seung-gil that had been irritated. But then there had been Yuri, cheeks flushing wildly as he immediately lashed out the moment that Seung-gil had opened his stupid mouth.

Which led to the  _ second _ coldest fucking shower of his entire existence, because Otabek had tried  _ everything _ to get the image of a flustered and worked-up Yuri out of his head. He had failed miserably. Several times.

He waited for their usual evening call, but it never came. Otabek wasn’t worried; this wasn’t the first time they hadn’t  _ not _ spoken. It was just that things were very,  _ very _ different now, and Otabek wasn’t sure that he could go to bed without at least saying good night.

Maya would tell him that he was pathetic.

He was kind of okay with it.

And while he expected a call, he didn’t expect his door chime to chirp. Otabek was mid-way into brushing his teeth, pausing to look toward it. “Computer,” he said around a mouthful of toothpaste, “Who’s at the door?”

The Computer chirped again before replying with, “ _ Yuri Plisetsky _ .”

Otabek choked on his toothpaste, hacking up a cough as he tried to catch his breath. When he finally made it to the door after rinsing his mouth, he paused, hesitant.

He was absolutely sure about entertaining this  _ thing _ between them, but now that Yuri was apparently just as enthusiastic about it, he was well…

He was  _ nervous _ .

Which was stupid, because Otabek was  _ never _ fucking nervous.

He  _ wanted _ this, but he didn’t want it to end bad. He didn’t want to lose their friendship. There was something about Yuri and his unwavering bluntness. Otabek had come into this mission wholeheartedly expecting to remain a loner the entire time. He’d been  _ pissed _ when Victor had assigned Yuri to the engine room.

But over the weeks he’d become a friend, and he didn’t want to risk it.

Yuri had fucked that right out of the window though, when he’d kissed him on the planet.

Finally, he hit the door panel and it slid open, revealing a  _ very _ annoyed pilot, scowl spread across his face. “What took you so fucking long?”

Yep, that was the face that he was kind-sorta falling in love with.

And then his breath hitched at that realization, and then--  _ What the fuck was wrong with him _ ?

“I was brushing my teeth,” he finally said. “Getting ready for bed, you know, my usual nightly routine.”

Yuri harrumphed at that, crossing his arms across his chest, looking down at him slightly over his nose. Yuri was only taller by about three or four inches, but Otabek loved it. It was  _ different _ , you know. “You going to let me in, or what?”

“Uh,” Otabek started, lacking his usual articulation, but then he stepped to the side for the pilot to slip inside. “Yeah, sure.”

Yuri slid by him effortlessly, before stopping dead the moment he got a good look at his quarters. The door slid shut behind him and suddenly, Otabek felt a little self-conscious, letting him into his space.

And then Yuri’s face found the far wall, by his little food area, and Otabek was already turning pink--

“Are those…  _ rocks? _ ”

Otabek stepped next to him, rubbing at the back of his head. “So I uh, I kind of  _ collect--” _

“That’s fucking adorable,” Yuri laughed, leaning over to pick one up. “You know, I had thought that you were too fucking perfect, and that there  _ had _ to be something weird about you. Thank God I was right.”

“Rocks aren’t  _ weird _ ,” Otabek instantly defended, plucking the rock from Yuri’s hand, before placing it back down gingerly. “They can be really cool.”

“Beka,” Yuri said, his lips quirking into an amused smirk. “Rocks are pretty fucking boring.”

Otabek huffed at that, but didn’t respond, instead grabbing Yuri gently by the shoulders and leading him away from the display wall. “What are you even doing here? I was getting ready for bed and waiting for your call, but then you didn’t--”

“Figured that showing up in person would be better than a call, you know?” Yuri said smoothly, his lips practically  _ curling _ around the words.

Otabek’s mouth went dry at his coy tone. “You… you aren’t wrong.”

“Good.”

Otabek’s space was small, but tidy. He had opted out of an armchair, but kept a small table to eat at. He supposed that he would have to find another chair, or request one or something, or--

Yuri had thrown himself onto his bed instead, sprawling out like a starfish.

Otabek gulped at the sight. He’d wanted Yuri in his bed, he’d  _ dreamt _ about it more times than he would care to admit, but this was definitely not the way he would have thought it’d happen.

“What a day,” Yuri finally said, covering his eyes with an arm. He heaved a heavy sigh. “My first technical away mission, making first contact, and then the whole nearly dying thing.”

_ Nearly dying thing _ . Yeah, that was  _ absolutely _ the thing of the day that stuck out most to Otabek. Not.

He sat on the edge of the hard mattress, and Yuri pulled his arm far away enough to look at him. “You know, I’d been  _ warned _ about how dangerous you are,” he drawled.

“It’s not my fault that you never listened--”

“What I’m  _ trying _ to say is  _ thank you _ ,” Yuri interrupted. “You know. The whole saving-my-life thing. Really.”

Otabek’s brow furrowed at his comment as a sudden through crossed his mind. “Hey, you aren’t you know…” He paused, twisting his fingers awkwardly. “I don’t want you to think that you  _ owe _ me anything for--”

“ _ What the fuck, Otabek _ ,” Yuri immediately spat, shooting up in the bed. Otabek was startled by his vehement glare. “What the  _ actual fuck _ ,” Yuri repeated.

And that was when Otabek realized that he had made a mistake, a  _ big, fucking mistake _ . And he wasn’t really sure how to fix it. “Yuri--”

“I can’t believe you,” Yuri snapped, clearly offended.

“Yuri--”

“You know, it took a lot of--”

“ _ Yura _ ,” Otabek practically pleaded, reaching out and grabbing Yuri’s hand. Though he scowled, Yuri didn’t immediately pull away. That was a good sign. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how the fuck did you mean it?” Yuri accused, frown tugging at his lips. Otabek didn’t have an answer for him, because Otabek was  _ terrible _ at lying. “It took a  _ lot _ of courage, to do what I did, you know,” Yuri finally said, finishing his earlier sentence.

Otabek sighed, because he  _ knew _ that. For weeks, he’s been the one to push at it, to try and  _ do  _ something. It was just that his luck was terrible, and it was  _ still _ terrible, and for Yuri to just jump that hurdle, well... “I’m fucking this up,” Otabek finally said, dragging a hand down his face.

“Damn right you are.”

Well, he certainly hadn’t expected that as an answer. Otabek managed a glance towards Yuri, who still frowned, but the glare had softened it’s edge slightly.

“You aren’t past fixing it though,” Yuri finished with.

At that, Otabek managed a tiny little smirk.  “Oh? And you think that I can convince you to forgive me?”

“I think that you could be  _ very  _ convincing,” Yuri said quietly, watching him through narrowed eyes like a cat. “Provided that we don’t get interrupted. Again.”

Otabek leaned over and immediately pressed his knuckles against Yuri’s jawline. “Yeah, we seem to have bad luck with that,” Otabek mused. Yuri motioned for him to come over, and he complied.

“I guess we just have to keep trying, then,” Yuri replied.

Otabek hummed delightedly as his thumb rubbed against the soft skin of Yuri’s cheek. Even sitting, Yuri was still a little bit taller than him, but the other man met him halfway, easing the space between them.

Again, he was struck by how kissing him was different. Yuri’s lips were soft, but not like a woman’s. He was all hard angles and lean muscle, and Otabek wanted nothing more than to slide his hand up Yuri’s side, to caress the skin there.

And if there was any question as to whether or not Yuri was hesitant, it’d been answered. He leaned back, pulling Otabek with him, until his back was against the mattress. Otabek pulled away for a moment to look down at him, taking in his flushed face and the little flyways of his hair that framed his face.

It was unfair, Otabek decided, how good looking this man was. Yuri was handsome and beautiful, but undoubtedly masculine, just a tiny hint of a smirk on his face. “Cat got your tongue,” he teased, and Otabek swooped down once more, pressing him against the pillow, drinking him in.

So far, so so good. The universe hadn’t done anything to throw a wrench into this moment.

Yuri’s tongue snaked out, licking across Otabek’s bottom lip like a question, and he responded in kind. They weren’t sweaty and covered in grime this time; Yuri smelled like pine trees and mint, and Otabek couldn’t resist pressing his fingers into his fine hair.

It annoyed Yuri enough to pull back. “Hey, you’re messing it up,” he whispered, his words hanging heavy between them. But Otabek only smirked, and Yuri batted his hand away once it wavered towards his hair again. 

“Yura,” Otabek drawled, leaning down to press his lips just below his ear. “You’re seriously going to complain about me messing up your hair?”

He felt Yuri swallow, and Otabek smirked against his skin. “I’m only complaining because you aren’t kissing me enough.”

“Hmmm,” Otabek hummed, moving his hand from his hair, only to ghost his fingertips along the hemline of his shirt. He tugged at the soft material and asked, “Is this okay?”

Yuri swallowed again, unable to find his words. Otabek stilled his hand, pulling back and looking at him. And it killed,  _ really _ Yuri was  _ killing  _ him, with his skin flushed red, and his heaving breaths.

“ _ Yura,  _ I need to know if this is okay,” he repeated. Because God above, Otabek wanted to touch him, to see if his skin was really as smooth as it looked.

“ _ Idiot _ ,” Yuri balked, “Of course it’s okay. It’s more than okay. I fucking  _ jumped _ your bones earlier, might I remind you.”

Otabek absolutely didn’t need to be reminded. Otabek wouldn’t need to be reminded for months to come, because the weight of Yuri pressed into a tree and grinding against him was something that he could  _ never _ forget.

Yuri kissed Otabek this time, reaching up and pulling his face back down. Otabek responded immediately, his fingers slipping underneath Yuri’s shirt. Yuri wasn’t the kind of person to just  _ sink _ into a kiss, he realized. Yuri was like a wildcat-- he kissed back with fervent need, taking what he wanted. His slipped his tongue past Otabek’s lips once more, this time less hesitant.

And then Yuri dropped his hands to Otabek’s hips, pulling slightly on his waistband, guiding his hips downwards too-- Oh.  _ Oh _ . He could feel him, Otabek realized. Yuri was very  _ evidently _ hard against his hip, and it didn’t take much to feel it through the thin sleeping pants that he wore.

Otabek moaned into his mouth, moving his hand to his hip, trying to get the man to just  _ sit still _ .

Because it’d been a fucking long time since he’d gotten laid, and despite his two  _ very fucking cold showers  _ earlier, this would last very long if they didn’t just slow the hell down.

Even if Otabek didn’t want to. Yuri pulled at him, which made it harder. “ _ Yura _ ,” Otabek said, pulling just far enough away that he breathed the words against Yuri’s lips. The man underneath him ground his hips upwards, causing Otabek to grip one so tightly that he was pretty sure it’d leave a bruise.

“Yura--”

“Don’t,  _ Beka,” _ Yuri whined, and Otabek felt the tone drop straight southwards.

“We need to-- Uh, We need to--” But Otabek floundered in his words long enough that Yuri actually  _ glared  _ at him.

“I fucking swear, if you’re about to say the words  _ stop-- _ ”

“ _ No! _ ” Otabek practically squeaked. “Just uh, maybe we should  _ slow  _ things down.” Yuri just stared at him incredulously, the flush of his skin spreading down his neck and underneath the collar of his shirt. “We aren’t in a hurry,” Otabek finished pathetically.

To his credit, Yuri held his hips still, despite both men being obviously frustrated by the sudden lack of friction between them. 

“Are you regretting this?” Yuri finally asked. Otabek hated how timid his tone was.

“No,” he said quickly, “No, I am absolutely the  _ farthest _ from regretting this, I promise you.”

“It  _ sounds _ like you are--”

“I’m barely able to hold onto myself,” Otabek finally said, embarrassment staining his cheeks pink. And Yuri blinked at him. “I really don’t uh--- This is new for me you know-- God, I should stop talking, I should  _ really _ stop talking. None of this is coming out right.”

Yuri sighed, but rubbed his thumb along Otabek’s hip. “No it’s okay, I get it,” he said quietly. He didn’t sound  _ angry _ though, which was saying something, considering that Yuri was always one lit match away from exploding.

Otabek was grateful at least, sighing in relief. Until he caught the glint in the other man’s eyes.

“Yuri--”  he started, but didn’t get the chance to finish.

Yuri took the moment to roll them over with surprising strength. “We can still kiss, yeah?” he asked, suddenly leaning over Otabek, his legs straddling him gently. Otabek was one thousand percent sure that this position was even worse, despite the obvious space put between them, but it was like his tongue was swollen to the roof of his tongue.

_ Weeks _ of intentional flirting and bravado, out the door because he was afraid that he’d bust his pants the moment Yuri came  _ close _ to touching him. He didn’t need to imagine Maya’s reaction, he  _ knew _ that she’d be teasing him for  _ years _ to come.

“Cat got your tongue?” Yuri asked, repeating his little tease from before.

“I’d require his tongue to be a little closer for that to be true,” Otabek said, finally recovering a little bit of his boldness.

Yuri hummed at that, his lips falling closer and closer until they met again. This time was slower, less hurried and more passionate. Otabek liked this better, he decided, the way that they pulled at each other equally, falling  _ into _ each other. His hand slid up into Yuri’s hair, pulling at the tie, tugging it free.

Yuri didn’t complain when he hair fell like a golden curtain around them, and Otabek brushed his fingers through it, scratching against his scalp. No, he  _ definitely _ liked this better, he thought when Yuri practically keened, his eyes fluttering closed as he enjoyed the contact.

This time, the universe didn’t interrupt them. This time, they enjoyed each other for a long time, before they both began to droop with tired bones and sleepy thoughts. When Yuri pulled away at last, Otabek reached out, thumbing over his swollen lips. Yuri leaned into the gesture, just watching him for a long moment. 

“I know I thanked you earlier,” Yuri finally said, his voice quiet. “But it wasn’t because I felt like I  _ owed _ you something. That’s not what this is.”

“No,” Otabek instantly agreed, moving his thumb to smooth over his cheek instead. And then to his hair, to try and undue the slight tangles.

“I’m going to say it again though. Thank you for saving my life.”

“I had entirely selfish motivation,” Otabek replied dryly.

“Oh?”

“I hadn’t kissed you yet. I couldn’t let you die, and not get a least  _ one _ kiss in.”

It wasn’t really a lie, Otabek supposed. His reaction had been instantaneous, the idea that Yuri was in danger had initiated a base instinct that he wasn’t even aware that he had. He wasn’t even sure where it had come from, but Yuri didn’t need to know that though, not the entire truth of it.

Yuri let out a small chuckle before flopping onto his back beside Otabek. “I don’t want to go back to my room,” he said to him.

Otabek paused at that. He had never even  _ considered _ that, that Yuri could stay in his quarters. Or that he could stay in his. That it would be nice to just  _ sleep _ next to someone, to not feel so alone all of the time. Especially since they were lost in space, and everyone was just so… so...

It really had been too fucking long.

“I’m a little too jittery to just be alone, I guess,” Yuri continued with. “With today, and then you know, meeting with this  _ unknown race of aliens _ . I mean, what if I’ve traded death today, for tomorrow instead.”

“Katsuki seems to have decent judgement.”

“Are you  _ serious _ ? He picked  _ The Old Man _ to date. What the fuck is wrong with him?”

“ _ Nothing _ ,” Otabek replied. “Victor is a good man.”

Yuri harrumphed at that, but didn’t immediately respond, staring at the ceiling instead. “What is it with the two of you anyway?”

Otabek groaned at that. “Are we seriously talking about  _ the Captain _ right now?”

“He lets you call him by his name. Not even Commander Lee calls him that. What’s up with that?”

“I’ve known Victor a long time, that’s all. We have… We have an understanding.”

“ _ An understanding _ . Just as baffling as your supposed  _ Commander _ rank.”

“Yura,” Otabek said, turning to him slightly, “you can stay here if you want.”

“Oh no, you can’t avoid it this time--”

“Your hair is tangled. Allow me to brush it out?”

Whatever Yuri was about to retort, fell dead on his lips as he considered this. Otabek knew his gamble had paid off, when Yuri turned to look at him through narrowed eyes. “You’ll fuck it up.”

“I have a sister. I know how to work with hair,” he promised, knowing that he’d already won. Yuri sat up, turning his back to him and crossing his legs across the sheets. Otabek disappeared into the bathroom, only to return with a small brush.

“Seriously, what do I have to do to find out?”

Otabek sighed, slightly annoyed that Yuri wouldn’t just  _ fucking drop it _ . He gathered a section of hair into his hand, pressing the brush to it. He began to work from the bottom up, slowly detangling the strands that he had messed up earlier.

“What I always tell you to do-- Ask Seung-gil.”

“You call the Commander by his first name too,” Yuri observed.

“I call  _ everyone _ by their first name.”

They fell quiet, as he worked his fingers and the brush through Yuri’s hair. It was the softest thing he’d ever touched, he was sure. Fine, but thick, and he could tell that Yuri dealt with a lot of upkeep to keep it so healthy.

Too much work, but Otabek would cherish it.

“You should wear your hair down,” Otabek said.

“Yeah, you mentioned that when you were as high as a fucking kite,” Yuri said. Otabek could practically  _ hear _ the smirk in his voice. “It’s kinda creepy how much you apparently love it.” Otabek’s hands stilled at that, and Yuri laughed.

“It’s  _ beautiful _ ,” Otabek said quietly, resuming his task. Yuri tched at that, but it didn’t seem to be the word itself that bothered him. “You’re uh-- you’re beautiful. Er, handsome. Both?” Otabek paused, trying to regain his words. “There’s no way to properly explain this.”

“Nah, I got the gist,” Yuri said, waving his hand. “I’m so fucking gorgeous that I’m both.”

Otabek didn’t laugh, but he did smile at that, patting down Yuri’s hair gently. Finally, he put the brush down, fingering through the strands once more. Then, he sectioned it off, pulling and arranging them into a neat plait down Yuri’s back. Once tied off again, Yuri reached back to touch it gently.

“When’d you learn how to braid?”

“I already told you,” Otabek huffed slightly. “Maya.”

“You two are weirdly close.”

“She’s my best friend.”

There was a pause before Yuri answered with, “She’s good people.”

It relieved him, that Yuri liked his sister.

Yuri turned back to him, his eyes bright, but the rest of him slightly hesitant. “You know, I don’t let  _ anyone _ touch my hair,” he finally said. The words seemed heavy, and Otabek realized right then what it had meant, for Yuri to let him do such a thing.

“I don’t let  _ anyone _ sleep in my bed,” was Otabek’s lame reply. They both settled back under the covers and Otabek asked for the computer to put the light out.

He didn’t expect Yuri to cling to him, but he liked the subtle weight of his back resting against his own. Even facing opposite ways, he was instantly comforted.

He couldn’t remember the last time he slept properly through the night, let alone on a  _ starship _ .

 

* * *

 

Otabek slept on a hard mattress. Yuri liked mattresses so soft that you could practically  _ sink _ into them, but despite that, he found that he preferred this particular mattress.

Or maybe it had to do with the man in it instead.

They’d fallen asleep back-to-back, which honestly suited him just fine. Even with an entire night of making out like fucking teenagers, and then letting him brush out his hair, he didn’t know what to fucking  _ do with himself _ . So, it seemed simple to just turn away and lay there, just comforted by the general  _ presence _ of Otabek instead. And Otabek seemed of the same mind.

But when his communicator chirped at the end of the sleep cycle, and Yuri blinked open sleepy eyes, he found that Otabek was wrapped around him, an arm slung tightly around his waist. Knees pressed into the back of Yuri’s calf, and his face pressed into the back of his neck, Otabek’s breath puffing gently against his skin.

And then there was the issue currently digging into his lower back. Yuri froze, unsure what to do.

Being a man, Yuri wasn’t  _ unaccustomed _ to the problem of a morning wood, and there’d been plenty of times he’d woken up wrapped around a women, sporting one. But he’d never been on the receiving end of it and it was quite apparent that Otabek wasn’t moving anytime soon.

And Yuri didn’t want him too. He  _ wanted _ to feel the hardness against his back, against his groin, grinding into it as Otabek’s breath hitched and--

Yuri groaned softly, rubbing a hand down his face.

He didn’t blame Otabek for halting that line of action the night before-- honestly, it had been a good idea-- but it didn’t mean that he hadn’t been at least a  _ little _ bit frustrated at the whole thing. Because there was  _ nothing _ worse than waiting out a raging boner, when the literal cause was  _ right there next to you _ . Especially while  _ still _ making out with them.

Because there wasn’t any question as to what exactly Yuri wanted now. He’d thrown any questions he had out the airlock and straight into space itself.

His communicator chirped again, and Otabek moved this time, just the slight tightening of his arm around him. Yuri didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to wake up, he didn’t want to get dressed, he just wanted to stay here and drift back asleep--

“ _ Commander Lee to Ensign Plisetsky.” _

“Shit,” Yuri cursed lowly.

“ _ Yura _ ,” Otabek mumbled sleepily, not really awake. Yuri tried to scramble from his grasp to grab at the communicator on the bedside table, but Otabek clung tightly, hands moving to his hips, brushing against the bone there. And then he pressed his own hips closer.

Yuri tried to ignore it, tried to ignore all his blood flowing south,  _ tried to ignore how his heart sped up at the thought of-- _

“ _ Plisetsky, come in.” _

Thanks to his long arms, he managed to just  _ barely  _ reach the communicator. “Commander,” he grunted in annoyance.

“ _ Ah good, you’re awake. I wanted to alert you of a change of schedule. You were expected on the bridge at 0800 hours, but the Captain has insisted on a day of light duty in… consideration of the away mission. We’ve all been given the day off.” _

Yuri let out a relieved sigh. “Thanks Commander. Honestly, I could kiss the man.”

“Please don’t,” was Seung-gil’s dry reply. And then Otabek did the  _ worst _ possible thing that he could have done, which was to sleepily call out Yuri’s name. There was a long pause and then, “ _ Was that Commander Altin? _ ”

Yuri knew that Seung-gil was surprised, so he took smug pleasure in his confusion. “And if it is?”

“ _ I don’t judge people by whom they date, Plisetsky, though I am admittedly... surprised. I’ll leave you to inform him of the mandatory day off, thought he’s like to not take it.” _

The Communicator chirped and the channel went dead, and Yuri dropped it back onto the table. Settle back into the sheets, Otabek pulled him closer again, humming slightly against the back of his neck, in his sleepy doze. And then Yuri felt his hips press against him again, and that was a big  _ nope _ , because if he didn’t get out of there right  _ then _ , something bad was--

“ _ Beka,  _ let me go, I should get up,” Yuri said running his fingers down his arm before lifting it up. Otabek mumbled something sleepily, but relented, and Yuri was able to slip from the bed. 

And then he slipped from the room, intent on a  _ very _ cold shower.

 

* * *

 

Seung-gil had nailed it. Despite the proposed  _ day off _ , Otabek worked right through it. Yuri wasn’t remotely surprised to find him in the engine room, elbow deep in grease, as he set about  _ fixing _ things.

And the moment Otabek had seen him, he smiled, just a little quirk of his lips as he pulled his hand out, wiping it across his brow. It was stupid, how ridiculously hot he looked, covered in grime and wearing the most unflattering overalls known to man.  _ So stupid _ .

“Yuri, is something wrong?”

_ Shit _ , he’d been caught staring. He narrowed his eyes at Otabek’s little smirk. “ _ No,” _ he finally managed. “I’d say everything is fucking perfect. Except for your sister maybe. She’s looking for you.”

Otabek sighed, wiping his hands clean on a rag. Then he crossed the room to Yuri, pulling him close. Yuri hooked his fingers into the belt loops around Otabek’s waist, tugging slightly. “Well, we all know I can’t keep her waiting.”

“You can’t? Maya is an adult, she can wait as long as needed.”

Otabek hummed at that, before dropping a short kiss onto Yuri’s lips. Before he could really respond though, the other man had pulled away. “Yeah, but I shouldn’t. She gets catty.”

“She’s  _ always _ catty,” Yuri said, frowning slightly.

The look that Otabek flashed him said many things. “Yura, trust me when I say you haven’t seen shit. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Yuri pouted, but waved him off with a sigh. “Yeah, later.”

 

* * *

 

Except that later didn’t really happen either.

Aside from a brief lunch with Maya, Otabek spent the entire day tinkering away at whatever he was doing with the engine. And he made it  _ clear _ that he didn’t want any distractions.

Yuri wasn’t used to this, used to being  _ ignored _ . But then again, it’s not like Otabek fucking  _ owed _ him anything.

He did the stupid thing again, showing up outside his doorstep before they turned in that night, instead of initiating their usual late-night communicator call. And Otabek took a moment to answer the door, clearly bedraggled and with bed head.

“Shit, did I wake you up?”

Otabek grunted slightly at that, but let him in regardless.

Well, there definitely wouldn’t be any making out that night, it seemed. “Hey,” Yuri finally said, following the other man back to his bed, “Let’s just get some rest, okay?”

“Yura--”

“I can see how tired you are,” Yuri interrupted, sitting on the edge of the mattress. And really, Otabek looked  _ exhausted _ . Circles that cut deep under his eyes and an all around  _ tiredness _ that seemed to surround him like a blanket. Otabek let out a relieved sigh, as he lifted the cover to allow Yuri in.

“I’m sorry,” Otabek mumbled, already half asleep it seemed.

Yuri couldn’t help that little smile that quirked his lips, before he properly settled in. He dipped to press a kiss against his cheek, before turning away from him.

This time though, Otabek turned towards him, wrapping around Yuri. And Yuri didn’t freeze this time, he practically melted into the embrace. “I’m sorry,” Otabek mumbled again, his lips gracing the skin of Yuri’s neck.

He swallowed thickly. “Good night, Beka.”

There was a grunt in return, but Yuri was fine with that. In fact, he was kind of fine with everything.

 

* * *

 

Until the next morning.

Yuri woke up in the opposite position this time, actively grinding his hips against Otabek, his hands gripping his hips possessively. The result of a particularly  _ vivid _ dream, so it seemed, and Yuri couldn’t help the groan that slipped from his lips as he pulled away abruptly.

“ _ Yura _ ?” Otabek muttered tiredly, moving to rub at his eyes.

“Beka--” he started, but immediately clammed up. “I uh-- God, I’m sorry, I just--”

“You were asleep, it’s fine.” It absolutely wasn’t fucking fine, but Yuri wasn’t about to explain it. I mean, how could he  _ possibly _ tell Otabek that he’d been dreaming about them, doing horrifically _ graphic _ things. Yuri wasn't the type to be embarrassed, but for some reason, this got to him. “Trust me, I  _ get _ it,” Otabek finished with.

Oh right. Otabek was a man, he had similar issues, he  _ knew _ where he was coming from. That was new, but not entirely  _ unwelcome _ . Yuri was already slipping from the sheets, when Otabek sat up.

“I have to get ready for my shift anyway,” Yuri finally said. “Nothing uh… nothing that I can’t you know… take care of. Later.”

“Yura--”

Yuri leaned over and smacked a kiss across his cheek. “I’ll see you later, right?”

Otabek looked like he was about to say something more articulate than the, “Yeah,” that he managed. Yuri just smiled back as he left him behind.

 

* * *

 

Yuri slept in his own bed that night, because he was too fucking tired to trip over to Otabek’s. Not to mention that the mechanic had holed himself up in the engine room again, and when Yuri  _ tried _ to bring him lunch, he’d been effectively kicked out so he  _ wouldn’t throw off his concentration _ . 

Yuri didn’t know whether or not to be smug about that, or annoyed.

His bed was too soft, but his body just didn’t have the energy to move. 

And then there was the dream. Or dreams, because he just  _ couldn’t get the fucking idea of boning Otabek out of his mind _ . Really, he got it, Otabek  _ was _ right-- they should keep shit slow. But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t frustrated as hell about it. 

It was partly because it’d just been too long since he’d indulged in anything-- even a woman. And now there was this ridiculously  _ hot _ man that was, for some reason,  _ into him _ . There was this thrill of the unknown, and Yuri was  _ weirdly into that. _

Which was evident, by how he woke up in the morning.

He’d dreamt of sweaty skin, hips sliding against each other, lips covering every inch of skin they could-- and then-- Well. He’d woken up to the  _ first _ sticky mess in his boxers, that he’d managed in literally years. Seriously, he couldn’t  _ remember _ the last time that he’d dealt with a legitimate  _ wet dream _ .  

He groaned in frustration, falling back into his sheets, throwing his arm across his face.

It was too early for this.

 

* * *

 

It took a week for Yuri to realize that he just couldn’t do it anymore.

Yeah, it was nice to share a bed snuggle casually in, to have little pecks of affection here and there, and the occasional steamy make-out session-- but he was beyond that. He was  _ past _ the point of being gone. And the worst part was that he could just  _ tell _ that Otabek was too.

They were both on edge around each other, but too fucking afraid to do anything about it.

Or too fucking decent, depending on how you looked at the situation. Otabek was the  _ ever _ present gentleman, and while that was nice, it was quickly losing its appeal.

Maybe Otabek was just too scared. Yuri was too, he  _ absolutely was _ . What if he didn’t like it? What if being with a dude was weird? Dicks were gross, even Yuri could agree with that.

You know, until he thought what Otabek’s might be like. He’d  _ felt _ it enough by this point, to be past  _ mildly interested _ .

Yeah no, he was so far gone that he just couldn’t fucking handle it anymore.

Which is where Maya finally said something. She was superhuman, Yuri decided, as she slipped him a cup of steaming coffee. And then poured a shot of something into it, that he  _ definitely _ shouldn’t be drinking while  _ technically _ still on shift.

“You know Yuri, you look like you’re about to lose it.”

“Shut up, you hag,” he snapped, but it was about half-hearted as he actually felt.

Maya raised her eyebrows slightly, and said, “This is about my brother, isn’t it?”

“Why the fuck would you think that?”

“Because when it comes to you, it’s  _ always _ about my brother.” Well, she wasn’t wrong, that was for sure. Lately his entire  _ existence _ gravitated around Otabek, it seemed. It’d never been like that, not even with serious girlfriends. “So I know that  _ something _ happened between you two,” she continued with.

“Ugh, he fucking told you, didn’t he?” Otabek shared  _ everything _ with his sister, he guessed. 

But then Maya smiled like a fucking Cheshire cat and said, “No, but you just did.”

Yuri groaned, slamming his forehead against the cold countertop. “We are not having this conversation.”

“Yuri, really, it’s cute.”

“I’m not  _ cute _ .”

“My brother thinks you are.”

_ Beautiful _ , Otabek had called him that first night. Well, if that hadn’t been a boost to his ego, he didn’t know what was. Took someone long enough to fucking finally notice.

“I’m just frustrated,” Yuri finally said. “And confused. And a lot of things. Like, one minute I’ve got an alien on me, knife and my throat, and then there’s fucking Beka, snapping his neck like it was  _ nothing _ . And it was just--”  He let out a frustrated grunt.

Maya raised an eyebrow. “You know, I didn’t think you were the sort to find violence sexy.”

“It wasn’t the  _ violence _ ,” he spat, turning to look at her, but he realized that she was only teasing.

“Let me guess,” Maya finally said, leaning against the counter. “You finally had the courage to kiss him, and now he’s all ‘let’s take this slow’.”

Yuri swallowed. Well,  _ kiss _ was a mild way of putting it. “Why are you not surprised?”

“Because that’s the kind of guy my brother is, Yuri. I  _ promise _ you that he wants to do,” she paused and waved towards him, “whatever it is you plan on doing, but think about where we come from. We’re from a very  _ traditional _ family, and he probably doesn’t want to take anything  _ lightly _ .”

“Lightly?” Yuri repeated. “He thinks that I treating this  _ lightly _ ?”

“All I’m saying is that you might have to make the move. Otherwise you might be waiting for a  _ long _ time.”

Yeah, there was  _ no way in hell _ , that was happening.

 

* * *

 

Otabek was where he always was, holed up in the engine room. Yuri was actually surprised that he didn’t just throw a cot in there and sleep under the damn thing, because the crew wasn’t lying when they joked about the man practically living there.

Yuri leaned against the comm panel in front of the contraption, just watching. Otabek was currently straddling the tube that connected the separate portions of the engines, streaked in only God knew what. Even the rag that was stuffed in his back pocket couldn’t help at this point.

He watched, as Otabek hooked his wrench on something, and started tugging at it. It wasn’t the first time Yuri had noticed the way his muscles bulged, but it  _ really wasn’t fair _ . Especially not when he was wearing a gray tank-top that did  _ nothing _ to hide them. He swallowed thickly.

“You know, there’s an  _ easier _ way to do that,” Yuri finally said, crossing his arms across his chest.

Otabek didn’t look up, but replied with, “High tech devices are convenient sure, but there’s no satisfaction in them.”

“So what, you just work twice as hard  _ and _ get all gross doing it?”

Otabek finally looked up, swiping at his face. “When I was a kid, my grandfather used to tell me about  _ hard work _ . I didn’t get it until I was older, but he was  _ right _ . It’s satisfying using my hands.”

“You should use your hands for other things,” Yuri said, teasing.

At that, the other man raised an eyebrow and sat up fully, swinging his leg around to sit on the edge of the tube properly. “Like  _ what _ ?”

“Eating lunch?” Yuri pointed to a small tray beside him. “Maya sends her regards.”

“I’ve already eaten,” Otabek said, shrugging. “I have a replicator in here.”

Well, that was a shame. Yuri had wanted to share lunch with him. Otabek jumped down from the tube, swapping out his wrench for a scanner. Yuri slid up to his side, leaning against the edge of the left engine.

“I miss you,” Yuri said, quietly. “That last few days have been pretty fucking boring.”

Otabek faltered slightly at that, pausing in his scan. “I know that I’ve been busy--”

“ _ Busy _ ,” Yuri interrupted with a sigh.

“Are you angry?” Otabek said, frowning.

“No,” Yuri said. And it was the truth. It’s not like he expected Otabek to just… abandon his post. “I just-- What can I help you with?”

“Aren’t you assigned to the bridge again?”

“Most days, yeah. Not today though. Captain still wants me to  _ learn things _ from you.”

Otabek narrowed his eyes at that, but didn’t question any further. “Hand me the seven-eighths wrench,” he finally said, tucking the scanner into his back pocket.

“How the fuck do I know which one is that?”

“I’m pretty sure that you know your numbers, Yura,” Otabek said with humor.

Yuri scowled at him, but dug around in the tool bag, before he found the accurately labeled wrench. Well, that was easier than he would have thought. “What are you even doing?” he asked, holding it out.

Otabek took the wrench and set to work. “I’m disabling everything aside from basic thrusters. Hopefully, it’ll prevent any problems until I can finally fix them.”

Yuri frowned. “But with only the thrusters online--”

“It’s only temporary,” Otabek said, pressing the wrench to the appropriate screw. “Really, I’m just doing anything I can to prevent the engine from exploding.”

“And you know, shooting across the galaxy again,” Yuri said.

“Or worse,” Otabek said. “Probably worse.” His muscles strained slightly, and he grunted as he worked at the particularly tight piece. But it finally gave way, and Otabek went on with adjusting whatever it was. Yuri watched in little interest. In fact, his interest was entirely on the mechanic instead, and the way that sweat glistened in his--

He looked away quickly, swallowing thickly.

“That’s good enough for now,” he heard Otabek said, and finally looked to him again. He was wiping that rag across his face, and instead of cleaning the grease from his skin, it only spread it around.

It was  _ stupid _ , how good he looked. And it was  _ stupid _ how much Yuri responded to it.

“Uh, Yura--”

Yuri hadn’t realized that he’d reached out, looping his fingers into Otabek’s belt loops. Embarrassed, he moved to let go, but Otabek caught his hand and held it there.

“I’ve missed you,” Yuri said lamely, repeated his earlier observation.

This time, Otabek smiled, and leaned forward to press a kiss against his lips. And  _ God _ , Yuri didn’t want it to fucking stop. “Let’s have dinner tonight,” Otabek said, pulling away. “Just you and me.”

Yuri agreed instantly.

 

* * *

 

Yuri was the one to cancel this time, because the second navigation officer had the nerve to get sick. Like, puked all over the pilot console sick. And Yuri, the  _ ever so responsible first officer _ covered for him.

The man’s morning shift too, which bled into his  _ own _ shift, once the afternoon started.

The moment that Commander Lee offered him a break, he took it, throwing himself from the bridge without a word. He was tired and angry and most of all  _ frustrated _ . Mentally, sexually, everything and above, he was just  _ done _ with it.

He needed peace and quiet, and even if Otabek incited the  _ worst _ (and best) feelings in him, the engine room was absolutely the most preferable place at the moment. He could just  _ relax _ , and just  _ bask _ in the presence of the man. Because as fucking annoyed at everything he was, Otabek was a particularly calming presence.

And a fucking  _ fantastic _ distraction.

Until he walked into the engine room, only to find the man literally  _ half naked _ . Yuri paused, taking in the sight of Otabek standing there, under the engine. He’d pulled off his shirt and thrown it to the floor, his mechanic jumpsuit folded over and tied around the waist.

He’d felt those muscles under his shirt, hell he’d  _ felt _ them briefly, running his fingers across them in those brief moments of making out with each other, but this time--

Yuri’s mouth literally went dry at the sight.

Oh, he’d needed a distraction, but  _ this _ was definitely  _ not _ the time for this kind.

Otabek turned at the sound of the bay doors opening, stepping out slightly to greet him. “Oh Yuri--”

Yuri ignored him entirely, crossing the space quickly. He grabbed his chin, pulling his face up towards his, pressing a heated kiss across his lips. Not particularly  _ aggressive _ , but it wasn’t  _ safe _ either.

Otabek froze, his hands immediately grabbing at Yuri’s arms, momentarily confused. Yuri pulled back slightly, breaths heavy as he looked down at him. “Sorry, I uh--” Oh,  _ so very articulate _ . “You’re um, you’re not wearing a shirt and--”

Otabek grabbed at his face, pulling him back down, kissing back. Yuri’s heart sped up, his hands drifting down his sides, feeling the skin there and the hard ridges of muscle. He groaned, his nails just barely scraping across the lines that cut through Otabek’s abdomen, pressing him against the engine.

“It’s not fair,” Yuri said, pulling back slightly, breathing hard. “How frustrated I am right now,” he finished with.

Otabek laughed at that. “You think you’re the  _ only _ one?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Yuri whispered, pressing a kiss against the juncture of his chin and neck. Otabek shifted slightly so he could reach better. “I can’t fucking  _ ignore _ it anymore.”

“We’re on shift,” Otabek said weakly, as Yuri drifted a hand across his abs once more. He marveled at how they twitched slightly in response, at how Otabek groaned at the feel of him exploring.

“Do you think that I fucking  _ care _ at the moment?” Yuri replied, smirking against his neck. He pressed another kiss there, his tongue snaking out briefly to taste the salt the covered his skin.

“Perhaps the best place for this isn’t against something that could literally blow up if jostled wrong.”

They both froze, breathing hard. And then Yuri said, “Then where  _ is _ the best place?”

Otabek yanked at him, pulling him behind the engine and into a dark alcove behind everything. It was a tight fit, but they were hidden at least. And you know, not leaning against something so volatile, as exciting as that could have been.

Yuri found himself on his back, Otabek leaning over him, legs straddling his hips easily. “You know what’s not fair,” he said, leaning over, pressing his hips against Yuri’s and--  _ Oh _ . Yeah, know he wasn’t exactly ignoring this anymore either, a very distinct bulge evident as he ground down slightly. “Is that you’re still in uniform.”

Yuri moaned slightly, hands reaching out grip his hips. “Yeah well, not  _ everyone _ has permission to literally ignore dress code.”

“I don’t have permission,” Otabek said with humor. “I willingly ignore it. No one says anything.”

“They’re too fucking scared of you,” Yuri said.

Otabek paused at that, looking down at Yuri seriously. “Are you scared, Yura?”

Otabek was fucking perfect, he decided. His tanned skin was perfect, the way that his body was practically cut from granite. His stupid haircut, and how his hair fell down and framed his face when it slipped from its well manicured style. Like it was doing right then. It curled slightly against his forehead.

In a very rash decision, Yuri grabbed at his hand, pulling it straight to his crotch. All or nothing, he’d made the move and it’d work. He wasn’t fucking going back  _ now _ . “Do I  _ seem _ scared?”

“ _ Yura _ .” The words came out low, strained even. “You’re going to be the fucking death of me,” he said, not the first time that day. 

“At least you’ll die happy, right?”

Otabek’s lips met his and a frantic crash, his tongue slipping past his, tasting what he could. Yuri responded in kind, lifting his hips up, trying to get as much friction as he possibly could. Otabek’s hand was still there, squeezing just slightly, palming what he could feel through his stupid uniform.

Otabek was right, it wasn’t fair. His uniform was in the way, the polyester too thick, he couldn’t move around easily and most of all, he couldn’t feel enough, have the  _ right _ amount of weight. Otabek tasted like sweat and grease, but he liked it, he couldn’t get enough of it, licking into his mouth as he lifted a hand to rake through his hair.

The other man shifted slightly, moving his hands and trying to arrange Yuri’s legs over his hips and--  _ Oh _ . Yeah, there, there was good. Their hips slotted together, fitting perfectly, and suddenly Yuri could feel him. Suddenly, he could feel  _ everything _ , but it wasn’t enough. His blood was on fire, and there wasn’t enough friction, and in the tight space he couldn't move his hips enough.

Otabek gripped his hips tightly, grinding his own against Yuri’s, moaning. Yuri tried to catch it, his tongue swiping out to meet Otabek’s. The mechanic swept his hand down a thigh, squeezing it tightly as he pressed himself against Yuri again.

Yuri was heaven, this was  _ heaven _ and they were barely doing anything. But Otabek was hard against his crotch, and the friction was perfect, and his hands were perfect, and everything was  _ perfect. _

“ _ Commander Lee to Altin.” _

It wasn’t Yuri who growled in frustration this time, but Otabek, the moment the communicator in his back pocket chirped. 

“I swear to God, Beka, if you fucking answer that--”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Otabek breathed.

Yuri shifted his hips, reaching around to run his hands down Otabek’s butt, tossing the scanner that had been in his pocket aside and--

“ _ Altin, I know you’re awake.” _

Yuri felt Otabek shift around, grabbing at the comm, and the moment he saw it between his fingers, narrowed his eyes in a flushed haze. “I fucking  _ swear to God Beka--” _

“Seung-gil, I’m particularly busy at the moment.”

“ _ You’re needed up in--” _

“I will  _ end you _ if you message me again.”

Yuri couldn’t resist teasing Otabek by rolling his hips again, and the other man dropped a hand to grip tightly at his hip bone. At least the communicator was live at that particular moment.

“ _ Tell Ensign Plisetsky that his particularly long break is coming out of his paycheck.” _

Otabek bit out a laugh, throwing the comm badge to the side. It skittered along the floor, landing a good ten feet away. “Should I be concerned that the Commander knows something?”

“Beka,  _ I _ will end you, if you mention him again. I’m trying to focus on other shit right now.”

“Like what,” Otabek said, smirking as he leaned back down.

“Like trying not to bust my pants  _ literally any moment _ \--”

“So you  _ should _ think about the Commander.”

“I changed my mind,” Yuri breathed, his hand snaking up to Otabek’s hair. He gripped it tightly, rolling his hips again. “I don’t care anymore, how long this lasts, just keep doing whatever--”

“Someone could walk in any moment,” Otabek mused, kissing his neck. Yuri dropped his head back, giving him access.

“That’s fucking creepy--”

“We should hurry this up,” Otabek continued.

“You talk too much,” Yuri groaned. “Less talking, more--  _ Jesus fucking christ. _ ”

Otabek had reached between them once more, palming him over his uniform. Then his hand skittered back over and across his hip bone, and around. Both hands found his ass, pulling his hips up and closer and--

Yuri was close, and his throat went dry. He was  _ so _ close to that end, he could feel it welling up in his bones. “ _ Beka, _ ” he practically whined, trying to warn him.

Otabek beat him to it, it seemed, judging by how his movements became jerked and then to a stilted halt. And then there was his face,  _ his face _ , and the way his fingertips bit into his sides.

Yuri fell over that edge too, flushed and chest heaving. Otabek ran his fingers down his cheek, his thumb tracing his bottom lip, before dropping another kiss on them. It was less heated this time, the both of them suddenly weary in the aftermath of everything.

“It’s fucking hot in here,” Yuri finally said, causing Otabek to laugh against him.

“That would be why I took off my shirt.”

“Thank fuck you did.”

“Thank fuck, indeed,” Otabek agreed.

“God, I have to change my uniform now. This is… I forgot how disgusting this was--”

“ _ Disgusting _ .” Otabek frowned, prompting Yuri to amend his statement.

“The aftermath!” he immediately snapped, pressing a hand to his eyes. “God, this is embarrassing. I came in my pants like a  _ fucking teenager _ .”

“That’s not embarrassing, Yura,” Otabek said, lips quirked to the side. Well, at least he wasn’t making  _ fun _ of him. “Besides, I can’t say much.” He pointed at himself. “I need to change too.”

Otabek leaned back, pulling off of Yuri, who just laid there, catching his breath. “That was…” A lot of things. It was a lot of things, and he couldn’t describe it. But he liked it. He wanted to do it again, he wanted  _ more _ . That fact was pretty much cemented.

He let Otabek helped him up and out from behind the engine.

“You know, Seung-gil probably sent someone down here.”

“Then I need to get the fuck out of here,” Yuri said, turning around.

Otabek caught his wrist though, and he paused. “Hey, I--”

And that’s when the bay doors opened, and Maya walked in. Both men froze, and Maya looked them up and down before smirking widely. And that’s how Yuri just  _ knew _ , that she knew.

Oh, she’d never fucking let them down for this.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri tried to remember the first time he had met an alien.

It had been a sunny Sunday afternoon in Hasetsu in the year he had turned thirteen. That day, he had helped his parents around the house, cleaning the front steps of their onsen with a mop and water, as suddenly a car stopped at their gates. Yuuri could still see it in his mind as if it had been yesterday. It had been sleek and shiny, one of those that were made for the air motorway, and a very expensive model at that. All sorts of people came to their little onsen, and shiny cars were nothing new to Yuuri, so he returned his attention to the task he had been given.

A moment later, a large shadow had covered his view, and a strange voice had asked him in accented English if this was the onsen of the Katsuki family.

Yuuri had almost fainted as he had lifted his head and had looked into the face of a full grown Mondorian.

Back then, he had not been able to tell if the creature was male or female. Its face had been covered in bright pink scales, like those of a fish, and its black eyes had studied Yuuri from head to toe as it waited for an answer. Only then, his sister Mari had come to the door, entirely unimpressed by the alien’s sudden arrival, and had invited the guest inside.

Later that night, Yuuri had secretly watched the Mondorian from afar, hiding behind the curtains that hung over the kitchen hatch as the alien ate the food they served him. The other guests eyed the creature suspiciously, but left it in peace. Yuuri had then wondered what had brought the Mondorian to their onsen of all places, as the alien lifted its head and looked right at him. Yuuri shrieked and hid behind the curtain, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

“Yuuri!” His mother had then placed a tray with tea in his arms. “Go and take this to the Mondorian gentleman, yes?”

Yuuri had swallowed thickly, opening his mouth to ask his mother to spare him, but she had already turned away to tend to another guest.

His legs had been trembling terribly as he had entered the dining area of their little onsen, but somehow, he had managed to take the tray to the table where the the Mondorian sat and now watched television with apparent interest. Yuuri was about to successfully sneak away again when the creature suddenly spoke, addressing him directly.

“Tell me, are you afraid of me, boy?”

Yuuri froze on the spot.

The Mondorian turned his head and looked at Yuuri, his black eyes having now changed to a lighter tone, making him look a little less than a child-eating monster.

“Am I the first one of my kind that you have seen?” The Mondorian asked.

Yuuri swallowed thickly, nodding as a response.

The Mondorian huffed. “That does not surprise me. My kind rarely leaves our planet. Most of the other worlds don’t suit us.”

“Then why did you leave?” Yuuri asked before he knew what he was doing.

The Mondorian gurgled, a sound that seemed to come from deep within his throat. Maybe a laugh? “I am their ambassador for Earth. Why is this planet named after the substance it is made of?”

Yuuri blinked. “I don’t know,” he said, dumbfounded by the sudden question. “The old Greeks named it terra. But that means earth as well.”

The Mondorian nodded. “I have read of the Greeks,” he said. “Smart people. They invented democracy. It is an interesting concept to us, for we have no democracy. You are too young to understand, so I won’t tell you more about it.” He eyed Yuuri with interest. “How old are you, in earth years?”

“Th-thirteen, Sir.”

“Ah.” The Mondorian reached for the tea, not caring that it was steaming hot as he poured it down his throat. “A very young human indeed. So you go to school?”

Yuuri nodded.

“And they teach you well, I hope? They teach you about space and other worlds?”

“Yes, Sir. We have a subject that is called Space History.”

“I see. And do you learn alien languages, too?”

Yuuri shook his head. “We don’t have the teachers for that. Most of them only teach at universities.”

“But you learn languages of other earth countries, then,” the Mondorian concluded. “You speak English, although you live in Japan. You have a talent for languages.”

Yuuri blushed. “I don’t know,” he murmured, scratching the back of his head. “I like them, I guess.”

“Then you should learn alien languages, too,” the ambassador said. “Mond-ogh is a beautiful language, yet difficult, if not almost impossible for humans to learn. You cannot make the sounds we make. You lack the water in your lungs.” The Mondorian patted his chest, and Yuuri believed to hear the swaying of liquid in the alien’s body. “Tell me, boy, what do you want to do with your life, when you are a man?”

Yuuri was surprised by the question, as it was not something a lot of people asked him. Most assumed that he would take over the family business.

“I don’t know,” Yuuri had replied.

“Become an ambassador like me, and you will know,” the Mondorian had said. “Learn to speak to people who are not from this world, and you will gain knowledge that no one can take away from you, boy.”

The Mondorian had left the next day and Yuuri had not seen him again since, but he had taken the alien’s advice to heart.

Maybe he was not an ambassador, but he had learnt to speak the languages of people from other galaxies, yes, from the other ends of the universe.

He even spoke basic Mond-ogh.

He fiddled with the translation device attached to his ear, adjusting it and turning it off and on in order to check its function. It was different than his usual comm badge, and slightly uncomfortable. When turned off, he could not understand a word of what Victor was saying to Yuri, as they were talking in Russian, but when he turned it on again, their words sounded completely understandable to him. Everyone on the ship usually spoke in their native language, trusting their badges to do the job for them, but Yuuri mostly spoke English, as the translations for Japanese were not always as accurate as he’d like them to be.

For their first meeting, however, Yuuri would use a special device designed for new languages. It would record, analyse, and translate every spoken word, while simultaneously update their system and make everything understandable for the others. Seung-gil would wear the second device, and Minami would keep an eye on the computer and manually fix any potential errors.

“When will we arrive, Ensign?” Victor asked their pilot, who tapped the screen in front of him.

Was it just him, or did Yuri Plisetsky seem strangely calm?

“Ten minutes _ , _ ” the Russian replied. “You might want to get ready _. _ ”

Yuuri took a deep breath, checking the device again as he felt a large hand on his shoulder. He did not need to look up to know who it was.

“Everything will be fine,” Victor said and kissed his temple lightly. “We’ll all be there. I’ll take a bullet for you if I have to.”

“Victor, don’t say something like that,” Yuuri whispered and shook his head vigorously. “Let us hope that this meeting will be successful and that they don’t decide to blow us up the moment we arrive at the designated zone.”

“I doubt that such a thing will happen, but yes, let’s hope that it will be successful,” Victor said and let go of his shoulder, glancing at his watch. “Let us go to the transporter room. Seung-gil?”

Together with the Korean they made their way to the transporter room where Phichit, JJ, and Christophe had already gathered. JJ was their head of Security and was therefore required to be present. Phichit would lead the first contact, and Christophe would assess the potential health risks if they were to land on the planet.

“There you are,” JJ said, getting up from his seat by the door. He seemed excited. “I wish my Isabella were here to see this! She’s studied extraterrestrial cultures, you know!”

“Of course,” Chris chuckled. No one on the ship actually believed that ‘Isabella’ existed, for no one had ever seen a picture of her, let alone the real thing.

Yuuri chose not to comment on it.

“Captain,” Seung-gil said, tapping the screen. “The Berendi are ready for transportation.”

“Good.” Victor clasped his hands behind his back, looking at every single member of his crew that was present, and Yuuri switched on the device. It beeped twice, ready to pick up the new language. Seung-gil did the same with his, nodding at the other man to show that he was ready.

“Beam them up, Scotty!” Victor chirped through the communicator, earning an annoyed groan from Yuri Plisetsky. 

Yuuri held his breath.

For almost thirty seconds, nothing happened.

But then, the transporters came to life, spheres of bright light taking the shape of what seemed to be a human one before the light seemed to be sucked upwards, back into the machine, revealing the creatures that they had been corresponding with for the last few hours.

Yuuri blinked in surprise.

If he had not known it better, he would have assumed that he was looking at ordinary human beings. Only at the second glance they turned out to be different from them. They were tall, at least as tall as Victor, with fair skin and eyes in bright, unusual colours. Their hair was just as bright and styled elaborately that reminded Yuuri of something he had seen in baroque paintings. Upon closer inspection, the colourful markings on their faces turned out to be make-up. They were dressed in long, flowing gowns that were surprisingly simple compared to the rest of their appearance.

They were four Berendi in total - two men and two women, each of them holding something that looked like a sceptre.

Then, the first Berendi, an older man with bright blue hair, opened his mouth, only to close it again. Yuuri then realised they were all staring at Victor as if he were a god. The Berendi blinked several times, and Victor began to shift awkwardly next to Yuuri as the alien finally spoke, the translator picking up the strange language and translating it for Yuuri and Seung-gil.

“You must forgive me, Captain, for you are an extraordinary beauty!”

Seung-gil snorted, forcing himself not to burst into laughter.

It took awhile for the regular communicators to receive the translation, but when they did, they all began to laugh. Even Victor, who stepped forward to greet them.

“That is a very unusual way to say hello, but certainly not one that I am not fond of!” He said. “My name is Captain Victor Nikiforov. This is my head communications officer, Lieutenant Commander Yuuri Katsuki. You have been corresponding with him.”

The Berendi turned to look at Yuuri, inclining his head to him. “We greet you respectfully, Yuuri Katsuki,” he said. “We hold those that respond to our first calls in high esteem.”

Yuuri smiled and bowed the way he had been taught as a child. “Thank you. You must be Asagi.”

“Indeed, I am,” Asagi answered. “Who else is here? I must know their names to greet them with respect.”

Yuuri nodded and began to introduce the others to the Berendi. “This is Lieutenant Phichit Chulanont, our counsellor and expert for first contact situations. This is Commander Seung-gil Lee, second in command to the Captain. Lieutenant Commander Jean-Jacques Leroy is our Head of Security, and Dr. Christophe Giacometti is our doctor.”

“A healer, then,” Asagi said approvingly and let his eyes wander over the people present. “But there are no women? Do you have none on your ship? Are they considered sacred?”

Yuuri shook his head. “No, but-”

“Oh, he is right,” Victor sighed, the translation finally on his device. The Berendi looked at him expectantly. “This must look terribly unbalanced to you. But we do have women on our ship, in leading positions.”

Yuuri was glad that the Berendi had translation devices of their own, because there was no way he could translate words as “unbalanced” or “leading” yet.

“I see,” Asagi said. “These are three of our fifty elders. Yook, Saga, and Georgi.”

Yook and Saga turned out to be women, whereas Georgi was the one with the least impressive hair - it was dark and short, but styled in a rather interesting way, making it look as if he had used too much gel. However, he wore bold make-up, and Yuuri was sure that if Yuri Plisetsky had been in the room, he would have laughed.

“Greetings,” Georgi said and stepped forward. “I am the minister of foreign affairs. In the name of the Berendi I welcome you to our solar system.”

“Thank you,” Victor said, extending his hand. “It is an earth custom to shake hands in greeting. It is a sign of appreciation and respect.”

“I see.” Georgi shook his hand and then stepped back again. “We are glad that you allowed us to meet you. You are not the first foreign species that we encounter, but the first that looks so very much like us. We must have shared ancestors.”

“Probably,” Victor agreed. “We were surprised to receive a message. We thought we were alone here. To be honest, it seemed like a miracle.”

“We assumed that you were in great despair,” Georgi said. “It is within our nature to help those in need, regardless of their origin. If there is anything that we can do, let us know. We would be delighted to learn more about humankind and your culture, if you allow.”

Victor and Seung-gil exchanged a glance, and Yuuri hoped that the Berendi would not interpret it as an insult that they did not answer straight away.

“It is within our nature to be cautious,” Phichit explained, stepping forward. “But we would love to learn more about your culture and your planet as well. Currently, we are experiencing technical issues with our ship, and we need a safe place to land so we can shut it down completely and let the machines cool. We already explored a planet nearby, searching for the material we need to fix our engines, but it was not a safe place.”

Yook and Asagi exchanged a look.

“You must have been on Kat-ka,” Yook said. “A rather primitive planet. Extremely violent. I am surprised you made it out alive.”

“One of our men was injured, actually,” Phichit said. “But we will have to return to Kat-ka, to get the tritanium we need.”

“Tritanium?” Saga repeated. “Berendar has plenty. For us, it is a waste product. We do not use it.”

“A waste product?” JJ inquired curiously.

Georgi nodded. “In the past, we used it to create weapons, but not anymore. You may use it if you need it.”

Phichit beamed, looking at Victor. But Victor seemed cautious nonetheless.

“If you have weapons, then I must inform you that we have them, too. Our ship is not our only defense,” the captain said.

“A malfunction on the ship does not mean that we are unarmed,” Phichit added. “We will defend ourselves if we must.”

“The Berendi are familiar with warfare,” Saga said. “We have had our own wars with other worlds. But as long as we are not threatened, we do not see a reason for violence. We are peaceful people.”

“So are we,” Victor said. “What we need is a safe place where we can land and where we can work on our ship without disturbances. In exchange, we will gladly share our culture and ways with you whilst learning from yours.”

Georgi nodded. “The Council of Elders would love to welcome you to Berendar. We offer you and your entire crew to stay in provided accommodation, and to get to know our capital and its surrounding area as if you were part of our people. It will be most fruitful to learn from a people that seems so similar to our own kind.”

Victor nodded. “I have to discuss this with my crew first. I won’t do anything they do not agree with.”

“Understandable,” Yook said. “Until then, we will return to Berendar, and await your answer.”

Victor touched his badge to reach Yuri on the bridge. “Ensign, beam them down to the planet again.”

_ “Done already?” _ Yuri asked, but did as he was told. A few moments later, the light embraced the Berendi and within seconds there were gone, as if they had never existed at all.

Yuuri took off his translation device, and so did Seung-gil.

“We should trust them,” Victor said the moment they were alone again. “I have a really good feeling about them.”

“Do you?” JJ asked, crossing his arms. “I’m not so sure. I mean, those four seemed okay. But what about the general population down there?”

“They were not lying,” Phichit remarked. “They behave very much like we do. It is easy to detect liars, but they did not lie. It seems that their intentions to help us are genuine. And besides, this would be the perfect opportunity for shore leave. The crew needs fresh air, and to get away from all this.” He gestured broadly at their surroundings.

Victor beamed at the Thai.

“We do not really have another choice,” Seung-gil murmured. “I don’t think we should trust them blindly. But we should accept their offer.”

Victor nodded. “What do you think, my Yuuri?” He asked his boyfriend.

Yuuri shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “They seemed… okay. We have to be careful, though. And as Commander Lee said already, we don’t really have another choice. If we don’t land, the ship will blow up. And that’ll be the end of us.”

An end he really did not want to tell his parents about in Heaven.

“Let us return to the bridge,” Victor said eventually. “And inform the rest of the crew.”

Yuuri stuffed the translator into his pocket and followed the others back to the bridge, glad to be back in this familiar environment. Minami immediately moved out of Yuuri’s chair at his sight, quickly explaining to him what he had done, but Yuuri knew the young man well enough to know that there was no need to double-check his work. Minami was good at what he did, and he trusted him.

Much to his surprise, Otabek was on the bridge standing next to Yuri, his hand resting gently on his shoulder. Well, he was not that surprised anymore. Victor had told Yuuri about his suspicions, and Yuuri was sure that he was right. Something was blossoming between the Russian and the Kazakh, and he couldn’t help but feel happy for them. They had both seemed a little lonely.

“We’re landing on Berendar,” Victor announced. “Yuuri, tell them that we’re accepting their offer.”

“Consider it done,” Yuuri said and took a seat at his computer, composing the message while Victor informed the rest of the crew through all channels that they would use the stay on Berendar for shore leave.

“That also goes for you, Otabek,” Victor said once he had ended the transmission.

“I have to fix the engine, Victor,” Otabek replied immediately. “I won’t waste my time-”

“That is an order,  _ Commander _ ,” Victor said firmly. “You need to unwind, too. Even if you only get some sleep and a decent meal, good lord. You and Plisetsky both leave this ship once we get to Berendar, and I don’t care if I have to drag you out personally. Or I will tell Maya to do that.”

Otabek glared at him but said nothing more. Yuuri knew that Otabek feared his sister’s wrath probably more than anything else, and that it was better not to cross the woman.

“Good!” Victor said cheerfully as the computer beeped again, this time showing a message with the instructions for landing. “Plisetsky, Seung-gil, I believe this is a job for you!”

 

* * *

 

Maya was bearable.

Even if she couldn’t help but snicker  _ every _ time that she saw him and Otabek together, she didn’t ask unwanted questions, or treat them strangely. She only teased them, and that was something that Yuri could handle, as annoying as it was.

But he did every fucking thing that could to avoid Commander Lee at all costs.

So  _ of course _ , it was decided that he’d be the one to land the ship with. Because the universe just has this  _ way _ of fucking with him.

Well, at least he and Otabek had sorted things out for the moment, but Seung-gil  _ knew _ , just like Maya knew. And that was quite mortifying. Scratch that, horrifically mortifying.

Seung-gil took the seat at the command station directly to Yuri’s left. Otabek stepped to the side, allowing him space, setting both his hands down on Yuri’s shoulders. The Commander raised a curious eyebrow, but didn’t say anything, turning to the console instead.

“Scans indicate that the atmosphere is similar to Earth’s,” Lee said.

Yuri nodded in agreement, reading the preliminary report. “Confirmed… though… I haven’t  _ properly _ landed a ship this size on a planet before.”

Seung-gil seemed unbothered by that. “You’ve docked ships  _ larger _ than this, at space ports one tenth the size, Ensign. I’m not too worried.”

Yuri frowned. “You should be. Air resistance, ambient radiation-- not to mention handling the manual controls and--”

“Would you prefer that I do it?” the Commander asked, turning to him. He didn’t seem angry, only mildly curious.

“Uh, no. Sir.”

Seung-gil hummed lightly at that, motioning towards the console. “Take her away then.”

Yuri sighed, but input the commands for the coordinates sent to them by the Berendar. “It looks like we’ll be entering the atmosphere in approximately three minutes. Still on auto-pilot. Then we’ll bank towards the left and head due east.” He adjusted the coordinates just slightly. “There’s a resort on the far side of their capital, it looks like.”

“Two minutes until the atmosphere,” Seung-gil cut in.

“Should be uh, a fairly smooth landing. I hope.” Otabek squeezed his shoulders though, and Yuri calmed a little bit.

Seung-gil announced T-minus one minute and Yuri began the sequence to initiate manual flight controls. He spared a glance at the Captain, he seemed  _ way too relaxed _ in his chair. At least Otabek was tense, even if he was trying to soothe Yuri. He could feel the tenseness in his fingers, as he pressed against his shoulders.

Then again, he knew better than anyone that Yuri was about to manually land a literal bomb onto a planet. It didn’t matter how many things he disabled in the engine, there were still  _ two quantum singularities _ floating around in tubes.

“Ten--”

“Initiating manual piloting mode,” Yuri said, flipping several switches. The ship lurched slightly as the command executed, but evened out as he held the yoke in front of him.

The atmosphere smacked against the ship and there was some resistance, but the ship held true and Yuri managed to shift their direction towards the west with relative easy.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” Victor said from the Captain’s chair, Seung-gil nodding.

Yuri wanted to huff at that though-- that wasn’t even the hard part. He flipped more switches, monitoring the engine turbines carefully.

“Don’t over do it,” Otabek said, leaning over his shoulder. He pointed to part of the diagram. “I know we’re only on main thrusters, but don’t let them run hot.”

“Yeah, yeah, I see it.” They weren’t there yet, but they could easily tip over due to the extra strain on them. “Just taking her in easy.”

“Approximately five minutes to the coordinates,” the Commander said from his side.

The ship lurched slightly, causing Yuri to frown. “This wind is a little--”

“Can you correct for that?” Lee asked.

“I’m  _ trying--” _

The pitched sharply to the right, causing everyone to grab onto their stations. Otabek lost his balance, barely catching himself on the back of his seat, before kneeling down beside Yuri. The pilot quickly launched in a set of commands, before yanking at the yoke harshly.

“Sorry guys, the instruments didn’t read that and I’m trying to manually adjust in the fly here.” He managed to gain control of the ship, but just barely. It still pitched slightly with resistance, but he held the  _ Agape _ straight enough to resume course.

The resort came into view on the screen, and there was a clear landing port fit tightly between two buildings. Yuri felt sweat creep down the back of his neck. Nah, he could do this, this wasn’t  _ any _ different than the drills he used to run at the academy. 

Even if those had been simulated on a computer, and there wasn’t any risk of literally  _ blowing people up. _

He swallowed thickly.

“Landing coordinates within view, preparing to switch to standby thrusters once in position.” The main thrusters were enough to propel the ship to were they needed to go, but a little too much force for delicate landing work. Once in standby he’d be able to wriggle the ship around gently.

Holding the ship in position above the landing port proved to be difficult, however, with the high wind. Yuri’s lips were tugged into a tight frown as he struggled with the yoke, holding everything straight.

“Switching to standby thrusters,” he said, flipping a series of switches, and then taking a deep breath, he tried to ease the ship down slowly.

And then a gust hit the ship, forcing it to the side just barely and--

The resulting squeal of metal on metal pierced the entire bridge. Yuri winced, checking the scan. Everything was in order still, they were just barely catching the edge of the building next to the port. Not enough to pull off any panels, but enough to do a bit of damage.

Yuri didn’t want to see the look on Otabek’s face, because he could already imagine it.

“Uh, setting landing gear,” Yuri said, finally managing a glance to the side.

Oh yeah, Otabek was pissed, his jaw clenched tightly, one little muscle twitching slightly. Yuri might be sleeping in his own room that night.

“So far… so decent,” Commander Lee said, reading the scans carefully. “Nothing seriously damaged.”

“Yeah, she’s lowering pretty well.”

The wind was less, now that they’ve cut their altitude in half, and the building was in the way. A few more adjustments, a few more switches, and then there was the slight  _ heft _ of the ship, as it touched down onto the ground.

And then the squealing finally stopped, and Yuri let out a sigh of relief.

The entire bridge relaxed, as Yuri fell back into his chair, massaging his temples to prevent the headache that was absolutely about to form.

“Well, that wasn’t that bad now, was it?” Victor said from the Captain’s chair, his tone  _ way to fucking cheerful _ . “Now, who’s ready for shore leave?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking finally, amirite?


	13. Is this the real life (Or is this just fantasy)?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO IS BACK!!!!  
> Theangryuniverse here! I know, I know, it took us fucking long to update this story, but here we are, finally! We're super excited to share this chapter with you.

_**Is this the real life (Or is this just fantasy)?** _

* * *

 

At first glance, the capital of Berendar reminded Yuuri of a city straight out of a video game.

The buildings surrounding the space where they had landed came in all shapes and sizes, from tall and shiny like the towers in New York City to small and shaped like an array of bubbles. Nature and civilisation seemed to connect to each other seamlessly, with trees functioning as firm parts of houses in some places. It would have been a field day for any architect. 

Yuuri had underestimated the effect that setting foot onto firm soil would have on him. The moment he exited the ship, going down the stairs after Victor and stepping onto the runway, he felt a heavy weight being taken off his chest, and he took a deep breath. There was nothing comparable to fresh air. Absolutely nothing. He reached up to his ear, adjusting the translation device he had worn to their first meeting with the Berendi, hoping that it would work. He knew that the Berendi had devices of their own that would make communication a lot easier, but he was not sure if the general public had access to them as well. 

“This is beautiful,” he heard Victor say, and Yuuri could only agree. Indeed, the city before them was beautiful, and well taken care of. Just the environment they needed to unwind, and to recover from the catastrophe that had disrupted their lives. 

A group of people was waiting for them on the other side of the runway, and Yuuri recognised the one leading them as Georgi, the minister of foreign affairs that they had already met. Once more, he seemed rather simple in his appearance compared to the other members of the council that had come to meet them, but Yuuri found that it made the man more approachable. 

“Captain Nikiforov,” Georgi said as they had reached them. “Ambassador Katsuki. In the name of the council of Berendar I welcome you to our capital.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said softly. “But I am no ambassador. I am merely a Lieutenant Commander and the Head Communications Officer.”

Georgi smiled lightly. “You are very humble, Ambassador Katsuki. On Berendar, the title of Ambassador is given to those that speak our language and that lead the conversations between the races. As you have accomplished both, you should carry this title with pride. You are an honoured guest. Now, how is it custom for your people to greet each other?”

“Ambassador Katsuki is always very humble, you see,” Victor said lightly. “Humankind has many different forms of greeting, but the most common one is the shaking of hands.” He extended his hand, waiting until Georgi took it before shaking it. “In the name of my crew I thank you for allowing us to land. You have helped us immensely by letting us, and your kindness shall never be forgotten.” He let go of Georgi’s hand again, and Yuuri believed to see amusement about the gesture on the alien’s face.

“The Berendi are a peaceful people,” the woman to Georgi’s left said. In her appearance she reminded Yuuri of a rather extravagant Christmas tree, with her hair shaped like a triangle and ornamented with red and white baubles. “And we offer those in need a helping hand. As our races seem rather similar, we are sure that we can learn from each other. It seems that maybe we have a shared lineage. Our scientists would be delighted to learn about you.”

“I am sure that our scientists would love to collaborate with yours,” Yuuri replied, as his device worked faster than Victor’s and his boyfriend was probably still waiting for the translation. “I would like to apologise for the damage caused to the building we touched while landing. But as you can see, our ship is rather large and it was a tight fit.”

Georgi dismissed it with a wave of his hand, and the other council members began to chuckle. “Not a problem, Ambassador Katsuki. It is nothing that cannot be fixed. We must applaud your pilot for this successful maneuver.”

Yuuri waited until the translation had gone through to Victor, who replied cheerfully: “Yes, he did a great job! He is actually one of the most talented pilots that Starfleet has, and one of the youngest, too! You haven’t met him, if I remember correctly. Where is he, by the way? Ah!” Victor had turned around, only to spot Yuri lingering near the ship, inspecting the damage he had caused together with Otabek. Although they were several meters away, Yuuri and Victor could hear the pilot curse in a rather colourful way. “Ensign!”

“What?!” Yuri spat, turning around, the scowl on his face visible all the way from the ship. Victor never stopped smiling, waving at him.

“Would you please come over here for a moment? And bring Otabek with you.”

Yuuri prayed that the translators wouldn’t give the Berendi an accurate portrayal of what Yuri was muttering under his breath as the pilot made his way over to them, Otabek following right behind him. 

“This is our pilot, Yuri Plisetsky,” he said as the Russian had finally come to stand beside them. “And our Head Engineer and designer of our engine, Otabek Altin.”

For a moment, the Berendi seemed speechless, and Yuuri began to wonder if his device had stopped working. But then he realised that they were all looking at Yuri, who was giving them all one of his deadliest stares yet. Seung-gil would have probably fainted at such a crass and careless violation of first contact protocol. 

“Yes,” Victor said with a small laugh when the Berendi still didn’t speak. “Altin here is actually the genius behind-”

“Captain,” Georgi said with a strangely breathy voice. “You must forgive our staring, for you and your pilot are amongst the most beautiful creatures we have ever laid our eyes upon.”

Behind Yuuri, Otabek made a sound that sounded very much like a dying chicken, trying to hide his laugh behind his fist.

Victor blinked, looking at Yuri first, then at Yuuri in confusion, as if to ask if he had heard that correctly. Within the blink of an eye, he had pulled himself together again, although Yuuri was sure that the remark definitely flattered his boyfriend’s already massive ego. 

“Thank you,” he said with a charming laugh. 

“The Berendi value and worship beauty in all its forms,” another woman explained, never taking her eyes off Yuri. 

“The fuck is this about,” Yuri asked, fiddling with his translation device. “Beka, what are they saying? Why are they staring?”

“Later,” Otabek chuckled, stepping forward a little as Victor addressed him once more. 

“As we already told you, our engine needs to be repaired. Our Head Engineer will provide you with a list of things he will require, as I have, frankly, very little knowledge of it all.”

The man to Georgi’s right nodded. “We will provide you with everything you need. I have been told that it is tritanium that you use for your engines?”

“Yes,” Otabek replied. “And I have been told that it is a waste product for you.”

“Precisely. We are therefore able to give you as much as you need. I hope that we can go over the details tonight.”

“Tonight?” Victor inquired. 

Georgi nodded. “You and your crew are cordially invited to a welcome banquet, which will be held at the Council Hall. It is the building you can see over there.” He gestured to a huge, white building in the distance that reminded Yuuri a little of ancient Greece. “Until then, you are welcome to rest in our resort.” Georgi gestured at the buildings surrounding the port. “You may also explore our capital, if you wish to do so. The general public is aware of your presence and will be delighted to meet you. We haven’t had guests so similar to ourselves for a rather long time.”

Yuuri waited patiently until the translation had reached Victor, who smiled and bowed his head a little. “Thank you for this kind offer. We accept your invitation to the banquet. I’m sure that my crew will be delighted to get to know your people and your culture. I have to say, we are all in need of some entertainment after the last few days.”

“The Berendi are well known in this part of the galaxy for their entertainment,” a rather young council woman said with a giggle. “I’m sure that you and your crew will enjoy themselves.”

“Now, would you please follow me to your quarters?” Georgi said, turning around and walking ahead towards the resort buildings. 

“Victor.” Otabek had walked up to their captain, fixating him with a serious stare. “I need all the time we can get to work on this engine, I don’t have time for-”

“You  _ will  _ come to the banquet and you will  _ not  _ offend our generous hosts by showing up covered in god knows what,” Victor said a tad too cheerfully for Yuuri’s taste before turning to him, putting his arm around his waist and pulling him closer. Yuuri squeaked in surprise at the sudden display of affection, but the Berendi seemed unfazed by it. “You know, I’m so ready for a little nap. What about you, my Yuuri?”

Yuuri could only nod. 

….

The resort was just as extravagant on the inside as it was on the outside. According to Georgi, who led their group through the massive set of doors and into a large hall, the resort was mostly used for guests of the government, including other species that came to visit. They learnt that the Berendi had trading contracts with a few worlds within and outside their solar system and that they were all more or less peaceful. “But none of them look as much like us as you do,” Georgi said to Victor and Yuri, as if the others were not even there. Yuri was still fidgeting with his translator, arguing with Otabek about having broken it in the morning by accidentally stepping on it. But Victor only laughed at the comment, the sound of it as clear as bells, making Yuuri’s heart ache. 

“We were surprised as well,” Victor explained. “We did not expect a humanoid species.”

“Humanoid?” Georgi repeated curiously. 

“Our species is called humankind,” Yuuri explained, and Georgi’s eyes flickered over to him in mild surprise, as if he had just noticed that he was actually there. 

Was he really so ugly that he could easily be forgotten in Victor’s shadow?

“I see,” Georgi said and came to stand at a set of stairs. “The council has prepared these rooms for you. As the size of your crew outnumbers the rooms available, each room will have to be shared by two. Our staff will show you around.”

Only then Yuuri noticed a group of men and women standing on the other side of the hall, wearing surprisingly plain clothing that most likely indicated their profession. 

“If anything should be amiss, do not hesitate to let me know, Captain Nikiforov,” Georgi said as the staff swarmed out to take them to their rooms in pairs. A young man approached Otabek and Yuri, greeting them with a smile before dragging them along their rooms, ignoring Yuri’s shouts. 

“I shall see you later,” Seung-gil said to them before following a giggling woman that had approached him and Chris, who was already studying the woman from head to toe before greeting her in his usual seductive way. 

“Oh boy,” Victor chuckled, gently squeezing Yuuri’s waist. “I hope we won’t have to pay child support by the time we leave again.”

“Captain Nikiforov?” A woman had come to stand in front of them, a blush adorning her cheeks. “My name is Ayka. I will take you to your room.”

“Thank you, Ayka,” Victor hummed and began to follow her. Yuuri remained silent, the situation overwhelming him a little, and he was glad that Victor had taken the lead for now. 

The woman called Ayka kept throwing curious glances at Victor, who had struck up a polite conversation with her, apparently once more completely oblivious to the effect he had on other people. Yuuri remained quiet, although he did not like what he saw. He knew that Victor, who was as gay as he possibly could be, would never show interest in a woman - but the way Ayka looked at him, and how she laughed at everything he said made Yuuri’s blood boil.

Was he jealous?

“This is your room,” Ayka said suddenly as they came to stand in front of a polished, white door that opened the second Ayaka touched it. “The button next to the door will connect you with the house management, in case you need anything. Please do not hesitate to call for us if you have any questions or wishes, Captain.”

“Thank you,” Victor said, and Yuuri found himself being pulled out of his thoughts by Victor kissing the top of his head. “Now, shall we?”

Yuuri prayed that there would be an actual bed.

The moment they entered the room that would be their home for the unforeseeable future Yuuri let out a sign of relief. It seemed that the Berendi had very similar notions of what made a room furnished, and the large bed that stood by the window was the most welcome proof of it. There seemed to be something like a lounging area, and another door that probably led to some sort of bathroom. 

“Wow! Amazing!” Victor exclaimed and let go of Yuuri’s waist, walking straight over to the windows that offered a beautiful view of the city. “Yuuri, look!”

Yuuri smiled softly at his boyfriend’s excitement. At least one of them was awake enough to appreciate all of this.

“Thank you,” he said to Ayka, who was still standing in the doorframe, and who jumped a little as he suddenly addressed her. Just like the others, she had been entirely fixated on Victor. 

“My pleasure,” she said with a small bow before disappearing again, leaving them alone.

Finally.

Yuuri rubbed his face and approached the bed, sitting down while Victor kept exploring the room. They had left their personal belongings on the ship, including their clothes, so they would have to go and get them later in time for the banquet. Victor would insist on them wearing their gala uniform. It would be an evening of socialising, of carefully getting to know the culture of the other, and he would sit in the midst of it, translating and learning new words as he went. 

Yuuri couldn’t think of something more exciting and more terrifying at the moment than that.

“Yuuuuri! They have this round thing in the bathroom, I think it’s a toilet,” Victor said as he came back into the room and flopped down on the bed next to Yuuri with a sigh. “Oh my, how I’ve missed this! Firm soil under my feet and a nice big bed.”

Yuuri forced himself to smile at Victor. “It’s a nice room,” he agreed, nervously playing with the duvet under his fingers.

“It is!” Victor agreed, sitting up again. “And I’m so happy that I can share it with you, my Yuuri. Finally some quality time with my darling.” Before Yuuri knew what Victor was doing, he found himself in the other man’s arms and his mouth on his own, giving him an ever to tender kiss. Yuuri allowed himself to kiss back for a moment before pulling away, clearing his throat nervously. Victor’s hands immediately left him, and the panic came over Yuuri like a wave. 

What if Victor misunderstood? What if Victor believed he didn’t want to be in this room with him, that he-

“Who would have thought we would end up in a place like this?” Victor asked instead. His hands were resting on his lap, giving Yuuri space, but his gaze was as warm and loving as ever. “It is very exciting, isn’t it?”

Yuuri wondered which gods he had to thank for Victor’s apparent ability to read him correctly. 

“It is,” he agreed quietly. “But also… very overwhelming.”

Victor hummed in agreement. “Is this the first new world you are visiting?”

Yuuri nodded. “I only ever visited trade stations or… or colonies.”

Victor carefully reached out to take Yuuri’s hand, letting it hover over Yuuri’s lap as if to see if it was okay. Yuuri took it, intertwining their fingers. It felt nice. 

“My first mission took me straight to the heart of the Ton Empire,” he told Yuuri. “Have you ever seen those before? They look like giant butterflies with hats. I was scared, but Captain Zhao was always in control. She handled the negotiations with ease.” He was quiet for a moment, running his thumb over the back of Yuuri’s hand. “I hope I can do her justice.”

“I know you will,” Yuuri said, giving Victor’s hand a gentle squeeze. If there was someone who could enchant people with ease, and save the world at the same time, then it was Victor. His strong, brave, incredibly kind Victor. 

“Thank you,” Victor said and pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s temple. “But I’m scared as well. Are you?”

Yuuri laughed shakily. “I’m surprised that I haven’t run already, actually,” he admitted. “All of this is… so much to take in.” Yuuri did not want Victor to think of him as weak, but that was the truth, was it not? So much had happened within the last few weeks. It was a miracle that none of them had finally snapped.

“So much has happened within the last few weeks,” Victor said and Yuuri jumped a little as Victor seemed to repeat his exact thoughts. “The accident, the negotiations…. You and I.”

Yuuri looked down at their hands, their fingers still tightly intertwined, afraid of letting the other go. He had dreaded this conversation, had spent nights lying awake, thinking of it and what turns it would take. How it all could go so very wrong. How he could lose Victor for good. 

But it was necessary to talk about it - there was no way around.

“We’ve been moving rather fast, haven’t we,” Yuuri whispered. 

“We have,” Victor agreed quietly. “I have told you more about myself within four weeks than my parents ever bothered to learn in twenty-seven years.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly. “Do you… do you regret it?”

Victor shook his head. “No, my Yuuri,” he said. “Absolutely not.”

Yuuri let go of his hand, only to wrap his arms tightly around Victor’s neck. Victor held him close, pulling him into his lap almost like a child, their chests pressed together as they felt each other’s heart beat. They had bared their souls to each other, yes, had been even forced to do so under these circumstances. But Yuuri saw that it was good, and that it had been meant to be like this.

“I love you, my Yuuri,” Victor whispered into his ear. “And I want to never be parted from you.”

Yuuri sniffed. “I love you too, Victor,” he breathed. It was not the first time he had said these words, but only now they felt genuine and real, unhurried and not spoken under deadly pressure. This time, they were safe. 

They stayed like this for what seemed like an eternity, only pulling away a little as their necks began to become a little stiff. But they never let go of each other, never stopped touching the other, and showering the other in loving kisses. 

“I want to use the time we have here to get to know you,” Victor said as he kissed down the path from Yuuri’s forehead to his cheeks. “I want to learn everything about you, my Yuuri. All things adorable and funny and noteworthy.”

Yuuri leant forward and pecked Victor’s lips. “And I want to know all the good things of you,” he whispered. “Not just your past and your negative experiences. I want to see what makes you shine. I want to see you happy.”

“Oh, I am the most happy,” Victor hummed and tilted his head to the side to give Yuuri access to his neck. “And I am completely yours.” 

Yuuri froze on Victor’s lap, biting his lip. There it was again, Victor’s complete openness about everything that never failed to send shivers down his spine. It was the one thing that separated Victor from him, and that kept Yuuri awake at night, worrying endlessly about how to break the news to Victor that he…

“Yuuri?” Victor’s voice as quiet and soft in his ear as he kissed his temple. “Tell me what bothers you.”

Of course he had noticed.

As Yuuri remained quiet, Victor pulled away, cupping his cheeks instead. Yuuri looked into his eyes, his heart aching at the love and admiration he found in them. All those things that he, as simple and plain as he was, would never be worthy of. 

“It’s nothing,” Yuuri murmured, rubbing his eyes. “I’m just so… so tired.”

It was not a lie. He was incredibly tired, and the bed was just too inviting. 

And he did not want to ruin the mood by telling his gorgeous boyfriend that he was not ready to sleep with him just yet. 

Victor nodded. “Of course. My Yuuri, your eyes are falling shut already! Why didn’t you say something?”

Before Yuuri knew what was happening, Victor had lifted him off his lap and had put him down on the soft mattress. “Get some rest, my Yuuri,” he said and kissed his forehead. “I’ll go and get our things from the ship in the meantime. And tell Plisetsky to make sure that Otabek showers before attending the banquet,” he added with a chuckle. 

“Okay,” Yuuri said and gave Victor’s hand a little squeeze. “See you later.”

“Sweet dreams, my Yuuri,” Victor said, kissing him once more before leaving their room, humming a soft tune under his breath.

Yuuri sighed, rolling onto his back, staring at the ceiling. 

There was nothing, his mother had once said, absolutely nothing that a good nap could not fix.

Yuuri hoped that she was right.

* * *

Otabek blinked, unsure that he had heard the man correctly. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that once more?” Maybe the translation device wasn’t working as advertised, or--

“This will be your and Mr.-- uh,  _ Plisetsky’s _ , room. I did pronounce that correctly, right?” 

He had and impressively so, but that wasn’t the point. “We’ll be rooming together?” It wasn’t so much that the idea freaked him out. As of late, they practically  _ refused _ to sleep without each other, but his concern was that their new found relationship was apparently  _ obvious _ . 

Otabek wasn’t sure if that bothered him or not yet, and he couldn’t comprehend what Yuri might think about it. 

Georgi cocked his head to the side, frowning in confusion. “Was that not the obvious choice? Are you and Mr. Plisetsky not--”

“ _ Hey _ , what’s he saying?” Yuri asked Otabek, sliding up to his side. Yuri's badge was still broken, not that he was like to wear it, even if it were working. It was a bad habit he'd picked up from himself. 

“They’ve given us a room together,” Otabek replied.

But instead of Yuri brushing it off, the man lit up. “No shit? Thank fucking God, because I was actually worried they’d put me with someone I couldn’t stand. Or that they’d put you with Maya or something.”

Otabek couldn’t hide the cringe that fell across his face. He’d sooner sleep on the floor under the engine, than room with his sister. Yuri caught the look and grinned. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Thank you, Ambassador,” Otabek said. “I’m sorry about him,” he paused to thumb towards Yuri. “He’ll eventually get his translator sorted out.” Otabek would force it onto his person, if he had too. 

Georgi hummed lightly, smiling with amusement. “Might I offer some advice, Mr. Altin? I don’t pretend to know much about your culture, but it’s clear that there are…  _ reservations _ , when it comes to... ah…  _ certain types _ of relationships. Know that here on Berender, no one will think anything of it. Try to enjoy your time here.” He paused, bowing slightly, before turning to Yuri and doing the same. “We look forward to seeing you at the banquet.”

“What was all that about?” Yuri asked, his lips tugged into a slight frown. 

“Nothing bad,” Otabek assured him before hitting the keypad for room entry. The door slid open without any trouble. The room was rather large, sporting an eating area, and a small kitchenette. Further in was a bathroom and two rooms, each with a large bed. Otabek knew that one would go unused. 

“ _ Nothing bad _ ,” Yuri repeated, in a tone that Otabek took as being unsure. 

“He offered some advice, that’s all.”

That caused Yuri to look back at him. “Advice? What could he possibly offer advice on? That man doesn’t even know us.”

_ No, but he had eyes, apparently _ . 

“Yura,” Otabek said, but then paused, trying to find the proper words. He dropped his bag by the wall before sitting on the edge of the mattress. “They put us together because they figured us out,” he finished with sheepishly. He rubbed at the back of his neck,  _ knowing _ that his face was probably as red as a potato.

_ “Oh,” _ Yuri breah said quietly. 

“If that bothers you--” Otabek began, but Yuri cut him off.

“I mean, we’re not exactly subtle, are we?” Otabek blinked at that. “Especially you,” Yuri continued, dropping his bag into the corner. He threw himself onto the bed, spreading his limbs wide like a starfish. 

Otabek moved to lean over him. “What about me? You’re the one who--”

“Beka,” Yuri whined. “Everyone sees you staring at me. Maya complains about how gross it is, all the time. When this whole thing started, I wasn’t sure that you’d-- uh, well,  _ reciprocate _ , but Maya had laughed so hard, she dropped a carafe. And then every time that I freaked out afterwards, she’d remind me of your  _ stare _ .”

Otabek swallowed at that. He hadn’t really thought himself subtle, but certainly not that obvious it and, well-- “Is that a problem?”

“What? Of course not. I’m fucking gorgeous, I’d be insulted if you didn’t.” At those words, the tense moment cracked and Otabek finally laughed. ”Finally,” Yuri said quietly, reaching up to brush Otabek’s bangs from his forehead. It’d been a long day already, and his carefully placed styling was coming undone. 

“What?”

“You’ve been frowning literally since we landed, and I knew it wasn’t because I scratched up your ship.”

“It’s an adjustment,” Otabek finally said, choosing to ignore Yuri’s quip about the Agape. “All of this.” He hoped that Yuri realized he didn’t just mean  _ them _ , but rather everything as of late.

“I get it,” Yuri said sincerely. People thought that Yuri was nothing but a young ball of unbridled anger, but there were many moments where he acted like an actual adult. “It’s not like you need to hide us, though,” he continued. “Honestly, after Maya saw us, I figured the entire ship would know.”

“Maya isn’t a snitch,” Otabek frowned, slightly offended on her behalf. 

“I didn’t say that,” Yuri eased. “But after all of her meddling, I figured she’d be happy to share on our behalf, whether we wanted her to or not.”

Well, he wasn’t really wrong there. To her credit though, Maya had kept pretty quiet. “The Foreign Minister told me that they don’t judge around here.” Otabek didn’t need to elaborate for Yuri to glean what that meant. While they weren’t necessarily worried about what the ship as a whole would think, public was a different matter-- especially when it came to a first contact situation. “He told me that we should enjoy ourselves.”

Yuri’s eyes lit up at that, sparkling slightly at the connotation. “Oh? Enjoy?” The quirk of his lips sent heat straight to Otabek’s groin.

“Yura,” Otabek warned. “We have things to do today.” Still, he allowed Yuri to grab him by the collar to pull him closer. 

“Hey, brain out of the gutter. You have an engine to fix.”

“I’m pretty sure that thinking about the engine will only put my brain right back there.” All things considered. There were some things that he really couldn’t get out of his mind, and the hot and heavy lunch break they’d shared behind the plasma tanks was definitely one of them. 

They were only inches apart when a knock at the door interrupted them. Otabek groaned in frustration, despite being quite used to it by now. Yuri laughed, pulling him back and leaning up to press a kiss against his forehead. His lips were soft and cool, and Otabek smiled. 

Then he pushed Otabek off of him, rising from the mattress to go change out of his uniform. Otabek went to tend to the door, surprised to find the Captain on the other side of it, waving animatedly. 

“Otabek!” he chirped. 

“Victor, I don’t have time for your--”

“Ah, I’m here for young Ensign Plistesky, actually.”

Otabek, who was already pulling away from the door, paused. “What makes you think he’s here?”

Victor gave him a very level stare, his lips twisting into a satisfied smirk. Many people thought that Victor was an airheaded goofball, but Otabek had known him long enough to know that he was actually anything but. He was incredibly intelligent and read people very well. Whenever he got that kind of look on his face, it was never good. 

“I asked the Foreign Minister, of course!” Victor finally said, but his expression said anything but. “Though, if you’re here, I’m surprised that you actually answered. You tend to ignore--”

Otabek cut off his thought with a narrowed gaze, but sighed, motioning the Captain in. 

“Hey Beka, I--” Yuri who’d walked out of the bathroom wearing only pants and no shirt, paused dead-stop when he saw their Captain. “Uh…”

“Yurio!” Victor chirped, and Yuri was pulled from his momentary stutter. 

“Don’t fucking call me that, Old Man.”

“That’s Captain Old Man, to you,” Victor chastised lightheartedly. “Also, put on a shirt. That’s more of you than I ever needed to see.”

Yuri made a disgusted noise, before disappearing back into the bedroom. Otabek was already massaging his temple, when Victor turned back to him, amused. “Honestly, I’m surprised Otabek,” he said. 

“Look, before you say anything, I know. He’s a guy and--”

“Oh, I don’t care about that-- I’m literally the gayest man alive. All I meant was, well, Yuri is a bit of a wild one, isn’t he?”

Otabek couldn’t help the thin smile that widened across his face. “Depends on who you ask, I think.”

Victor blinked and then made a face. “Otabek, I don’t need to know the details of--”

“Stuff it Old Man!” Yuri snapped from behind them. “And you,” he complained, pointing to Otabek, “Don’t give this geezer any ideas, you hear?”

“I don’t even know why he’s here,” he defended, throwing his hands up. 

“Ah, yes,” Victor cut in, “I figured that Yuri and I should go check out the market, yeah?”

Both Otabek and Yuri looked at him, like he’d grown a third head. 

“Why the fuck would I do that--”

“Language, Ensign,” Victor drawled. 

Yuri rolled his eyes, but amended with, “Why the heck would I do that?”

“Because Otabek has work to do,” Victor said cheerfully, but both of them could hear the thinly veiled threat there.  _ You’ve done enough to distract him. _ Otabek cringed, because it wasn’t untrue, and Yuri swallowed thickly before rubbing at his neck distractedly. 

Yeah, they’d been caught. 

“In any case,” Victor continued with, “I’ve been meaning to spend time with the crew anyhow. I want to get to know everyone, because… well. You know.”

It was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown across the room. Finally, Yuri said, “I mean, it’s not like I can refuse an order, right?”

“Not really,” Victor said with a smile, “Even though I don’t want to consider this as such.”

Yuri grunted before disappearing back into the bathroom. 

“I meant what I said,” Victor started, once the pilot was gone from earshot. “You’ve been distracted. And I get it, I really do, but we can’t afford to lose sight of things.”

“Are you telling me not to fraternize?” Otabek asked tightly. 

“Heavens no, otherwise I’d be a hypocrite, wouldn’t I?” Victor paused and sighed heavily. “Otabek, I know that of all the people on the crew, you’re the who feels like this entire situation is on your shoulders. I would never dream of telling you to ignore whatever solace you’ve found. However, I’m hoping that he isn’t just a distraction.”

“Victor, I’m insulted,” Otabek immediately said, and Victor flashed him a small smile. Otabek sighed, knowing that he’d been caught yet again. The man had backed him into a corner  _ yet again _ . 

“I know it feels hopeless, Otabek. Somehow, we’ll make it back home-- even if it takes us several decades.”

“I’m trying my best, Victor,” Otabek said, slightly deflated. 

The Captain reached out, pressing a hand against his shoulder for a friendly squeeze of encouragement. “I know, and that’s all I ask.” Then he pulled away. “You know, I’d figured that the Ensign would grow on you, but I never imagined just how much--” 

“Stop it, right there,” Otabek warned, but Victor only smiled back goofily. Teasing, as always, trying to put humor back into a tense mood. 

Despite everything, it worked. 

….

Otabek would have liked to explore the Capital city of Berendar with Yuri, but Victor had stolen him away with little more than a Starfleet Command. And really, he was fine exploring on his own, but he thought back to the Foreign Minister’s words, in regards to enjoying themselves. At least for a little while. 

He owed Yuri a proper date, if anything, and as long as they were stuck on the ship, Maya’s bar was the only place, aside from the holodeck. Neither place was a preferred method for a nice night out, as far as Otabek was concerned. 

Still, he hadn’t expected a gaggle of women to follow after him. Otabek understood what Georgi had meant now-- they really didn’t seem to think anything was odd, when it came to relationships. He’d seen a wide manner of people, strolling through town together. Men and women, young and old, and--

He paused, turning to look back behind him. There were three of them, all young-looking and pretty in their own right. He’d already made it clear that he wasn’t remotely interested in what they were looking for, but they didn’t seem to pay him any mind. 

He made the mistake of calling them over, to try and tell them one last time.

….

Otabek was a man of few words, and while he could be direct sometimes, there were just some things that he was  _ very bad _ at handling. 

Women, were at the top of his list. It didn’t matter if it was his sister, his mother or apparently-- even random strangers.

It was less so that he  _ wanted _ to do what they asked, and more that  _ he lacked the drive _ to be anything but proper with them. He blamed his grandmother, really, and his general upbringing and the notion  _ that you should never say no to a woman _ . 

Which was how he wound up at a high-end Berendi spa, with a gaggle of three women hanging off of his arms. Before he could protest, he’d been practically wrestled out of his clothes and thrown into a hot spring. 

And it wasn’t that Otabek couldn’t overpower them-- it was more that Otabek didn’t wrestle with women. Nothing good ever came of it. He had the scars from years of dealing with Maya to prove it. 

Yuri would find this entire thing hilarious, Otabek thought. He was covered with a towel at least, and the girls hadn’t bothered to strip entirely down. Even if the simple shifts they wore didn’t really hide much. Once upon a time, he  _ might _ have been interested, but he found that nothing stirred within him at all. 

Perhaps he was in further with Yuri than he had originally realized. 

One of the women poured a generous amount of oil into her hands, lathering it up slightly before slipping them into his hair. A simple wash, he concluded. No different than a barbers, aside from the fact that she was an alien in an unknown sector of the galaxy. 

“So tense,” she said. He wasn’t actively wearing his comm badge, but it was within a few feet, still translating their words. “So stern,” she giggled. 

“Really, this is unnecessary,” Otabek finally managed, moving to pull away. 

“Sit,” commanded another one, pressing him back down with a surprising amount of strength. Yeah, opting to not tussle with this group might have been the smart choice. 

“Tell us about yourself,” the third sighed, leaning back in the water beside him.

“I’m pretty boring,” he replied, and all three women crooned at that. 

“Nonsense,” the first said. “No one is  _ boring _ .”

“I assure you, I am,” Otabek said.

“Then tell us about the golden-haired one!” It was the third woman who spoke, leaning closer to him. 

“Yuri?” he asked baffled. “What about him?”

“He’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen,” the second woman sighed, but then she winked at him. “Not that you’re bad. You’re captivating in your own way, all dark and brooding and--”

“Yuri is off limits,” Otabek said quietly, nipping the chatter at the bud. 

All three woman frowned, and the one washing his hair warned him before dumping a bucket of water over it. “So he  _ is _ with you,” she intoned wistfully. “Are you sure you won’t share?”

At that, Otabek pulled back, looking to her. “He isn’t mine to share, not that I  _ would _ .”

All three women smiled slyly as they regarded him. “I’ve noticed something about you  _ humans _ ,” the first woman continued. She didn’t say it rudely, just with amusement. “You’re so rigid, so unwilling to play around and enjoy things.”

“I enjoy things fine,” Otabek said with a frown. 

The second woman raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure? You don’t seem to be enjoying all of this  _ pampering _ .” 

Otabek almost mentioned that they had basically  _ kidnapped _ him, but thought better of it. “Perhaps if we had planned better, Yuri might have been able to come with us.” He would have been in  _ heaven _ surrounded by so many bath oils and soaps. There wasn’t one doubt in Otabek’s mind that Yuri wasn’t  _ feminine _ , but there was absolutely a  _ vain _ side to him. 

All three women swooned at the idea of Yuri joining them, and Otabek took the momentary distraction to ask about a drink. One woman left to grab one, the second left with the promise of food, and the final said she’d be  _ right back with a surprise _ . 

And whatever that meant, Otabek wasn’t about to stick around and find out. The moment they were gone from his sight, he pulled himself from the water and threw on a robe. He didn’t care if he was about to escape a spa wearing literally nothing but a flimsy cover, but he’d take his chances. 

They’d pulled him into a private room, so when he slipped through the door, he found himself in the main bath hall. He tried to remember the direction they had led him in with, but he wasn’t very good with directions. It was something that both Maya and Yuri found ironically funny. 

He picked a random direction and went with it, apologizing when he nearly knocked over a spa worker. He rounded a corner, and spotted a familiar statue that he had seen on the way in. If he went around it, then it should lead back to--

“Commander Altin?”

Otabek paused and took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.  _ Of all the places to run into him, it had to be there, didn’t it? _

Still, Otabek turned around. “Seung-gil,” he said with clipped tone. Maybe the Commander would  _ catch a hint _ , and end the interrogation early. Seung-gil sat at the edge of a public pool, wrapped in his own bathrobe as two women attended him.

Like Otabek, he was too nice to  _ say no _ . 

Unlike Otabek, he didn’t seem remotely phased by the giggling of the women at his side, or their adoring looks. 

“I’m surprised to see you in such a place,” Seung-gil said, raising an eyebrow in amusement. Yuri would probably have a heart attack if he saw the Commander break his well-known stony exterior, but Otabek had known the man  _ far too long _ . 

He knew exactly how sarcastic the First Officer could be. 

“I was brought here, quite unwillingly,” Otabek said with a frown. Seung-gil hummed at that. “You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Otabek continued. 

“It’s quiet here,” the First Officer replied. Otabek blinked at that, because it really  _ wasn’t _ , once you considered the excited chattering of besotted women. And at that particular moment, they seemed to be  _ everywhere _ . But Otabek didn’t bother to contradict him. “Ensign Plisetsky isn’t with you?”

Otabek closed his eyes and sighed. He’d been waiting for this, and now that he wasn’t near Yuri, the man had finally mentioned it. “About that--”

“You’ll find no judgement from me, Otabek,” Seung-gil said in a mildly disinterested tone. “I just don’t condone amorous behavior while on the clock.”

Well, neither did Otabek, which is why he replied with, “We were on our lunch break.” Well,  _ Yuri _ had been, at least. Otabek really had no excuse.

Seung-gil cocked his head to the side, regarding Otabek. Then he let out a sigh. “At least keep it to private quarters, understood?”

As far as Otabek  _ understood _ , the engine room were part of his private quarters, but there wasn’t any use in arguing. “Understood,  _ Commander _ .”

Seung-gil huffed at that, but waved him away. “If they come looking for you, I’ll distract them. Get out while you can.”

Otabek didn’t need to be told twice.

* * *

“I’m not stupid, you know,” Yuri said, casting a sideways glance towards the Captain. “I know that you’re up to something.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ensign,” Victor pouted. “I’m not  _ up to anything _ .”

“There is literally  _ no _ reason to seek me out to… spend time with me.” Yuri shuddered at his words for good measure, delighting in the Captain’s frown.

“If you must know, I’ve decided to use my shoreleave to get to know the crew better.”

“And I was your first choice?” Yuri asked, no remotely placated. 

“I figured if it went badly with you, I’d just abandon the idea with anyone else.”

“That still doesn’t answer the blaring question,” Yuri bit right back. “Why me?” They walked along the sidewalk, toward the market, and Victor was quiet for a long moment. 

“Because out of everyone on the  _ Agape _ , I believe that you and I are the most similar,” he finally said, and his voice was filled with such sincerity, Yuri nearly faltered in his step. 

He’d never let the old man know that though, so he threw a sneer his direction for good measure. Judging by the knowing twist of his lips though, he didn’t fall for it. That surprised Yuri, who slowed his step. 

He’d always figured that the Captain was kind of a happy-go-lucky kind of man. Otabek and even Commander Lee had warned him otherwise, but he’d never seen it. Until that moment. 

“I mean it, Plistesky,” Victor finally said, stretching his arms behind his head. He slowed as well, matching Yuri’s pace. “Do you remember back to the night we met?”

Not really, but Yuri often didn’t remember things that he didn’t quite care for. Needless chatter with  _ Baldy _ was definitely on that list. 

“You said that I looked  _ clean as a whistle.” _

That sparked a memory in Yuri’s mind-- one of him and Seung-gil sitting in the bar, chatting about Victor’s supposed  _ wild _ youth. More specifically, how Seung-gil had  _ laughed  _ at him, something Yuri was pretty sure he’d never see again. 

_ Plisetsky, if you open up the Academy Handbook to the section about misconduct, Victor’s name would be the damn definition. _

Yuri paused in their step to shoot Victor a shrewd look. Captain only shrugged in return. “I’m not going to go into a long and boring story about my past, but I will say this-- It’s never the ones that behave that find themselves successful. What use are rules, if there aren’t those who break them?” And then he winked and set forth again.

Yuri had to work to catch up.

….

Yuri had a very long list of things that annoyed the fucking shit out of him. 

The Captain was on there, but wasn’t ranked quite high. Otabek was at the very bottom, because once he’d jumped his bones, his frustration had turned into pathetic relief-- the kind of relief that kept giving. There was one thing though, that would  _ forever _ be at the top of the list, and that was something  _  very _ simple--

Staring. He fucking  _ hated _ it when people stared at him. It didn’t matter the intent. It didn’t matter if it was  _ Wow, what a waste of young potential _ , or  _ Wow, what a hot-and-ill-tempered youth.  _ Here on Berendar, it wasn’t either of those. People seemed to stare because well… they had no good reason. They just did, their gazes punctuated with genuine flirting and warm giggles. From men and women alike. 

Yuri opened his mouth, about to snap back at a woman and her comment about his hair, when Victor grabbed at his wrist. “ _ Ensign _ ,” he hissed tightly, but not with ill intent. Just a warning. “It wouldn’t do any good to get angry.”

Yuri pulled his arm from the man’s grasp. “It’s  _ bothering _ me,” he snapped.

“I don’t like being stared at either,” Victor replied. Yuri rolled his eyes.

“That is an absolute lie. Captain, you’re the most dramatic man alive, you  _ thrive _ on attention.”

“Contrary to popular belief, Yuri, I prefer to keep to myself around new company.” With that, Victor let out a small sigh, before slapping a smile on his face and turning towards another vender. Yuri narrowed his eyes slightly at the particularly false facade.

Now he saw it, he supposed-- Victor’s drive to present himself as fleeting and inviting. Once you looked past the fake smile, you noticed the weary lines on his face. Yuri had never really considered such a thing, really. But then again, Yuri hadn’t ever really tried to get to know the man.

This was how it’d been, since they arrived at the market. Vendors hawking their wares, suddenly pausing in their work to stare and babble. Victor pretended to preen on the attention, while Yuri sputtered angrily, cheeks turning red. 

When Victor pulled him into what looked like a little cafe, Yuri was surprised that he didn’t try to stop him.

….

“I know what it’s like,” Victor said, causing Yuri to look up from his drink. 

The silence they had been sitting in wasn’t  _ uncomfortable _ , but Victor wasn’t the kind of man to take to quiet company. That was something Yuri liked about Otabek. Silence could stretch between him and Otabek for an hour, and it wouldn’t be odd. It’d be a comfort. 

Yuri must have looked confused by his words, because the Captain continued with, “Not really knowing… ah-- trying to figure out exactly what you want. You know.” 

“Spell it out, Old Man,” Yuri snapped at him, but it lacked the usual bark. “I’m not a fucking mind-reader.”

“Coming to terms with the fact that you like men,” Victor said quietly. 

“I’m not fucking gay,” he hissed, but the moment the words left his mouth, they felt wrong. And the worst part was the Victor wasn’t surprised. He just smiled sadly at Yuri, a look of  _ supreme _ understanding. 

Yuri dropped his gaze to the drink he’d ordered, something bright green and foamy. It tasted like wintergreen and apples. “I mean, it’s a little more complicated than that,” he finally murmured. “Not that I want to talk about it.”

Victor hummed lightly at that, running his finger around the rim of his glass. “Surely you know who my father is,” he finally asked, surprising Yuri by the change of topic. 

“Everybody knows who your father is,” he replied bored. “Admiral Nikiforov, literally the most famous man in Starfleet.” And then Yuri paused, blinking. “Until you, I guess.”

“Ah yes, my exploits precede me, it seems,” Victor said with a sigh. 

“What’s the point?”

“The  _ point _ is that I haven’t talked to my father since I joined the Academy.” Then it was Victor’s turn to pause. “Well, no, that’s a lie. There was a very distinct moment where I told him to  _ fuck off.” _

That caught Yuri’s attention. “What could he possibly complain about?” The idea was  _ silly _ . Victor was considered a wildly successful tactician. He was literally the  _ youngest _ Starfleet Captain to  _ ever _ command a ship. 

If Yuri’s mother gave a shit, even  _ she’d _ see the credence in that. 

But that strange, sad little quirk of Victor’s lips happened again, and for some reason… it put Yuri off. 

“I’ve always known that I’ve liked men, Yuri,” Victor finally said. “And there was a long time that I internalized it. I dated women, I pretended to be normal, because that’s what was  _ expected _ . My parents, especially my father, treated it as though it were a  _ disease _ . Even to this day, they act as though it’s something that I’ll just  _ get over. _

“When I applied to the academy, my father impressed the importance of  _ appearances _ . It didn’t matter that I actually found a solution to the  _ Nishigori Maru _ , as long as I wanted to screw men, I was  _ worthless _ . I was a  _ disgrace _ .”

Yuri frowned at that, about to say something, but Victor put up a hand to stop him. 

“In the end, my father gave me an impossible choice-- bring home a girl, or don’t come home at all. That was the moment I decided that I didn’t care anymore. I  _ flaunted _ myself. I wore men on my arm like they were jewelry, I skipped class to party, I broke rule after rule after rule.”

“I eventually settled down. I passed the academy, I was assigned to a ship, and then--”

“The  _ Riki Tiki Niki _ ,” Yuri interrupted. 

“It’s ironic, how people think my choices were heroic, when really I’m just a hypocrite wrapped in a blanket of self-loathing.” Victor seemed like was a million miles away. Yuri knew that the Captain considered retiring after the whole scenario-- Otabek had mentioned it once. But judging by the look on his face, it was a bit more complicated than that.

“Even in the event of my near death, even when I was in  _ therapy _ , my father still didn’t bother to visit, except for making sure that I was alive. No, I was the  _ disgraced _ son who  _ fucked _ men. My first posting was supposed to be on his ship. He immediately reassigned me, he didn’t want to--” Victor paused, running a hand through his hair. 

“My entire point wasn’t to drone on about my boring backstory, Yuri. It was to illustrate that I understand, more than you could possibly know.”

That was when Yuri saw it. Victor was a man struggling with his own identity, despite his openness and outward appearance. 

“I’m not gay,” Yuri repeated. “I don’t think-- I don’t-- I wouldn’t ever date another man,” he finally finished. “It’s just that Otabek is different.”

“Yeah, that’s the vibe that I got from the two of you,” Victor said, his lips twisting into an amused smile. “That doesn’t make it easier.”

“I’m determined,” Yuri said quietly. “And Otabek… well, I never really know what he’s thinking, but we’re on the same page.” Victor nodded. Yuri hesitated, and then, “You only talked about your father-- what about your mother?”

“Ah. The last time I spoke to her, she tried to set me up with the daughter of another admiral.”

“The denial is strong in your family,” Yuri observed. Victor hummed in agreement, taking a sip of his own drink. “Still, at least she cares.”

“She only cares about how the family name is reflected,” Victor said pathetically. 

“Yeah well, at least she cares about that. My mother popped me out and threw me to my grandfather. She didn’t give a shit after that.” 

“Well, there’s something to be said about fucked up families,” the Captain said with humor. 

“What’s that?”

“Those displaced tend to stick together.”

“Hey Captain, can I ask a question?”

Victor waved his hand flippantly, before flagging a waitress down for a refill. “I’m pretty sure that I’ve shown myself to be all ears.”

“Why’d you pick me? I mean, not only that, but to make me an actual  _ bridge officer _ , like what were you thinking? My list of infractions is literally  _ this _ long--” He paused to indicate a rather long gap between his hands-- “and anyone with a brain would have thrown my file into the trash.”

“No one’s ever given you a chance,” Victor said simply. 

“ _ Tons _ of people have given me a chance--”

“No, they haven’t.” Victor’s reply was short and curt, a little harsher than Yuri had expected. “They transferred you to the dredges. They stuck you on overnight shifts, they gave you grunt work, they practically  _ threw _ you away. They never looked at your records, or your grades, or the fact that you practically aced every mock mission that was assigned to you. All they saw was a punk kid from nowhere, with a distaste for authority and rules. They never  _ once _ gave you a chance.”

“Then why--”

“To show them.” Yuri met Victor’s gaze head on, surprised by the sharp clarity in the man’s glittering eyes. “To show them that people like you and I, are  _ worth _ something. To prove them  _ wrong _ . I only pick the  _ best _ , Plisetsky, never forget that.”

Something inside of Yuri hitched, just slightly. He swallowed around the small lump in his throat, tamping down the admiration that rose in his chest. 

He would never tell Victor how much those words had meant to him. He would never once utter a fucking word. 

Not that the Captain didn’t already know.

….

They didn’t pay for their drinks at the cafe. 

Or the dessert that followed. The waitress had brought Yuri and Victor each a slice of some sort of fruity cake. The sponge had been fluffy, the icing tart, and Yuri had tucked it away quickly. When Victor tried to pay the waitress, she laughed at him, saying it wasn’t necessary. That it was her  _ gift _ . 

It’s been the same in the market before, and it as the same as they walked back through it again. Every booth they walked by, owners didn’t just hawk their wares, they begged them to take them. Yuri didn’t quite trust the aliens, and to his surprise, neither did Victor. 

Perhaps there was something to his title of Captain, after all. 

Victor would smile charmingly, whisper a few words, but he wouldn’t take anything in the end. He assured the Berendi that the thought was  _ merely enough _ . Otabek often spoke of how smart the man was, and clearly Yuri didn’t give him enough credit. 

Yuri had every intention on slipping through the marketplace undeterred, wanting to just get back to his room for a nap. 

When he said as such, Victor gutted softly. "Don't forget, we have that banquet tonight."

_ Fuck _ , he'd forgotten. He opened his mouth, but Victor beat him to it--

"Nope, don't even think about it. It's an order."

At that, Yuri scowled. He took it back, every nice thing he'd thought about the man in the last hour. In fact,  _ ever _ .

But before he could even retort, a booth full of rocks caught his attention. Shiny, glittering,  _ sparkling _ . Yuri still thought rocks were fucking dumb but-- 

"You know, the banquet is formal wear," Victor said from his side. The knowing smirk plastered across his face pissed Yuri off. "Which guarantees a certain engineer wearing his dress uniform."

_ Well _ , that changed things didn't it? Yuri didn't bother to hide the red that crept across his cheeks, instead turning to ignore the Captain and look through the rocks. 

Finally he plucked one up, holding it in his palm. Victor, nosey as ever, looked over his shoulder. "That's a nice one, I think he'll like it."

"Like you fucking know anything, old man." When Victor gave him a measured stare, Yuri amended with,  _ "Captain." _

"I know Otabek, and I know that he'll like anything you get him."

"Shut up," Yuri snapped. 

But it didn't stop him from the merchant's insistence that he just  _ take _ it. 

Because that's exactly what he did.

….

Yuri got back to the room before Otabek did, and took his time poking around it. It was decent fare, he supposed. Roomy bathroom, nice seated area and a  _ fucking balcony _ . Yuri had never had a balcony in his life;  _ he’d been too fucking poor _ . 

When Otabek finally made his way back to their lodging, Yuri heard the door slide open, followed by a frustrated grunt. Turning the corner into the lounging area, he was met with the sight of a barely clothed Otabek, his hair dripping wet. Yuri’s gaze slid down the man’s figure, taking in the far-too-short robe, realizing that this was the  _ most _ of Otabek that he’d ever really seen. 

And it was a sight that he  _ really  _ liked. His eyes lingered specifically on Otabek’s thighs before--

“I’ve literally been wandering around the market for an  _ hour _ , trying to find my way back here,” Otabek finally said, his tone clipped and aggravated.

Of course he didn’t bother to actually  _ ask for directions _ . But Yuri couldn’t help the amused grin that slid across his face. “Oh this, I  _ gotta _ hear.”

* * *

“What do you mean,  _ there is no booze?! _ ” 

Maya looked up from her bag to where Dr. Minako Okukawa, her friend and roommate on Berendar, gaped at the waiter that had been assigned to their table at what seemed to be a café. 

“I am afraid we do not indulge in… these substances, Miss,” he explained to the woman, who stared at him in disbelief, with more patience than Maya had ever seen on anyone working in customer service. “We can bring some fresh Somna Juice to you, if you’d like to try it.”

“Did you hear that, Maya?” Minako exclaimed and turned around. “This planet doesn’t have any alcohol!” She turned around to the poor staff member again who did not seem to be sure what to think of Minako’s request. “It’s fine. I don’t need juice. Thanks though.”

“As you wish, Miss,” the man said politely and made a gesture with his hand before leaving them alone.

Minako groaned loudly and leant back in her chair, letting out a heavy sigh. “How am I supposed to survive here without booze?!”

Maya chuckled. “There’s booze on the ship. I can sneak some in here if you want.”

“Please do,” Minako murmured. “But god… I’m so glad to be away from this fucking time bomb.”

“Don’t let Otabek hear you said that,” Maya said and sipped her drink - made of leaves, according to the waiter, and therefore some sort of tea.

“My lips are sealed.” Minako sighed. “So there’s a banquet later. Wanna go and check out the city centre until then?”

“Sure,” Maya nodded, grabbing her bag and searching for her wallet. “Say, have you been to other planets before?” 

“Oh yeah,” Minako said, sitting up and reaching for her bag as well. “Several times, actually. Mostly for research purposes, but last year I also went to Suikan for a friend’s wedding. It was day for 82 hours. Let me tell you, it was the wildest party I’ve ever been to.”

“Do you think they’ll accept Federation currency?” Maya asked, fishing her wallet from her bag and checking its contents. 

“I doubt it,” Minako said. “But I guess we’ll find out in a moment.”

They called their waiter back, who happily explained to them that they would accept any sort of currency they had, and so, Maya generously handed him a more than appropriate sum before leaving the shop with Minako. 

“They just accept it without ever know if they’ll be able to use it in the future?” Minako mused. “Huh. Strange people.”

“Too good to be true,” Maya said as they walked through the wide streets of the capital together, taking in as much as they could. It was nice to have some time off to unwind with a friend, and Minako was always the perfect sort of company. “The concept of beauty they have here is… interesting, right?”

Minako huffed. “Interesting? They’re bloody mad, that’s what my dear old father would say if he were here. I mean...”, she pointed at a bunch of young men in the distance that wore their hair in high towers, dyed into literal rainbows. “What is this? A Marie Antoinette fanclub meeting?”

Maya chuckled. “Why don’t you get one of those?” She asked teasingly, reaching into Minako’s hair. “Pink hair with green stripes would look so good on you!”

“Eh?” Minako rolled her eyes. “Christ, no. I like my hair as it is.”

Maya sighed wistfully, running a hand through her own dark curls. “I’ve been thinking about cutting mine,” she said thoughtfully. “Like, a little less than shoulder length, maybe.”

“Why does your brother have the same haircut as JJ, by the way?” Minako asked. 

Maya shrugged. “God knows why. Otabek looks good with it. JJ looks like a douchebag.”

They turned around a corner and found themselves in the midst of what seemed to be a new quarter of the city, the signs on the buildings surrounding the square advertising all sorts of beauty treatments, from the latest hairstyles to colour enhancement of the skin. 

“Oh Christ,” Minako muttered as a bunch of young men exited one of the buildings, excitedly comparing their new hair colours. “Isn’t there at least ONE guy on this planet that doesn’t look like he’s escaped candy land?”

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up,” Maya said. “But if you’re looking for some fun, I’m pretty sure that these guys would worship you through the night.”

Minako shivered. “It’d be as if I were fucking cotton candy… hey, isn’t that Commander Lee over there?”

Maya turned her head, her eyes widening at the sight. On the other side of the square, a bunch of giggling young girls had gathered at the entrance of what seemed to be a spa, waving someone goodbye who turned out to be their First Officer. The girls swooned as the Korean exchanged a few words with them, and as he bowed a little in the fashion of his people, the girls screamed in excitement. 

“Bye, Seung-gil!” They squealed after him as he walked away, briefly waving at them over his shoulder with a smile that could only be interpreted as… flattery.

“Let’s go back to the resort,” Maya muttered, turning on her heel and walking back into the direction they had come from.

“Huh?” Minako blinked in confusion before hurrying to follow her friend. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m tired.”

“Already? But we haven’t even seen the-”

“I’m tired, okay?” Maya snapped. 

Minako regarded her intently as they walked, not saying a word for almost the entire way back to the resort. Maya kept looking straight ahead, ignoring the shopkeepers trying to offer them this or that. 

“Is this because of Commander Lee, Maya?”

They had reached the doors of the resort again, the clerk at the front desk greeting them with a bright smile, but they both ignored him. 

“Of course not.”

“So it is. I knew it.”

“As if I were interested in someone so stuck-up and uptight and-”

“Maya has a cruuuuush,” Minako sang.

“I don’t!”

* * *

“Wow, Yuuri! Amazing!”

Truth be told - Victor had been using these three exact words all day long, from the moment they had arrived on Berendar to his inspection of their room and even upon his return from the city, when he’d found his boyfriend (yes, boyfriend!!) sleeping like a baby in their bed. But he had never meant it as much as he did now, admiring the man in front of him. For Yuuri had put on his gala uniform, and Victor was instantly smitten.

Yuuri nervously played with the hem of his sleeve. “I don’t like this uniform,” he murmured. “I look ridicu-”

“No, Yuuri!” Victor interrupted him and got up from the bed, taking Yuuri’s face into his hands. “You look gorgeous. Like an Admiral, almost! Oh Yuuri, you should definitely become an Admiral in the future! Just imagine that! Admiral Yuuri Katsuki, PhD!”

To Victor, it sounded like the absolutely perfect title for the shy Japanese. Yuuri blushed at the compliment, leaning into the touch.

“You always say such cheesy things,” he said, pecking Victor’s lips. “But the one looking great is you. Everything about you is so…” He blushed even more. “Elegant.”

“You think?” Victor asked, looking down at himself. He liked his gala uniform, as it was perfectly cut and tight in all the right places, making him look like a professional. “But Yuuuuuri! I will only shine bright because I’ll have a diamond at my side!”

He embraced Yuuri and kissed him soundly. “Now I don’t want you to worry about anything tonight. Tonight, we’ll have fun. I’ve given Otabek the order to come as well and I’ll be damned if he won’t look like a god in his gala uniform. Plisetsky will thank the Lord on his knees for that sight.”

Victor had seen Otabek wearing formal clothing exactly twice, and every single time, the Kazakh had been barely able to save himself from female admirers. There was no doubt that Yuri would be swooning as well. 

Yuuri did not seem entirely convinced that they would have a fun night together, but he nodded anyway. “I’ll try to enjoy this,” he said, holding onto Victor’s arms.

“I know you don’t like parties and such, my Yuuri,” Victor said. “But just stay at my side and you’ll be fine, I promise. And besides, I’ve heard the food is amazing. Chris has been checking the kitchens together with Minako and Guang Hong to check if it’s edible for us and he told me to expect a feast for all senses. We haven’t had a proper big meal in a long time.”

“I doubt it’ll be like my mother’s food,” Yuuri said with a small smile. “But yes. Let’s… enjoy tonight.”

Victor beamed at him and pressed another kiss to his lips before offering him his arm. “May I take you to the banquet, my darling?”

Yuuri chuckled and blushed all over. “Victor... “ He sighed and shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe his boyfriend’s nerve. 

They made their way down the stairs to the hall where the rest of the crew was already waiting for their captain. Victor could spot Otabek and Yuri by the entrance, the latter staring in awe at his boyfriend who kept tugging on his collar to make it a little tighter. Otabek looked immensely uncomfortable in the formal clothing, but oh, he had never looked so good. 

“You were right,” Yuuri whispered into Victor’s ear as he spotted the couple. “Yuri loves it.”

“To be honest, who couldn’t,” Victor chuckled and clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright, everyone, I see that you’ve all found your gala uniforms and I have to say, we’ve never looked better. Tonight is meant for you to enjoy yourselves, to have a proper meal after the restrictions we had to follow, and to have fun. Please keep in mind that we are the representatives of humankind, so please,  _ please  _ don’t do anything that might give the Berendi a wrong impression of us. And don’t father any kids. You think I’m joking, but according to the rulebook, I have to tell you this. We don’t want the crisis of 2089 to repeat itself.”

A few people chuckled, and Victor couldn’t help but glance at Chris, who had already enchanted the ladies working at the reception of their resort. It was not that he didn’t trust the doctor - but he knew very well how careless his friend could sometimes be. 

Together they left the resort, walking the few hundred meters towards the Senate Building where the banquet would take place. It had become dark already, and lanterns had been lit alongside the street, bathing the town in a warm light. The Berendi waved at them as they walked past them, many of them stopping in their tracks to stare at them with wide eyes. Victor waved at them in return, greeting them all cheerfully. Friendliness was something all cultures seemed to have in common, and according to Captain Zhao, it was important to adjust one’s friendliness to the culture one dealt with. With the Berendi, it was incredibly easy, Victor found. 

“Yuuri, you have to wave as well!” He chuckled, patting his boyfriend’s arm. 

Yuuri only smiled lightly. “Maybe later,” he said, moving a little closer to him as if searching for a place of comfort. 

Victor reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be with you all the time,” he told him quietly. 

“I know,” Yuuri murmured, taking a few deep breaths. “But that does not change the fact that I find all of this incredibly difficult. Communication with others isn’t my best skill.”

“And yet you are our Head Communications Officer.”

“I know how ridiculous this is myself, thank you very much,” Yuuri snapped, only for his eyes to grow wide a second later. He lowered his head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to talk to you like that, Victor.”

“It’s fine,” Victor assured him and kissed his temple, causing a group of girls by the road to scream. “I just think you’re underestimating yourself. You’re incredibly talented. You just need a little more time to warm up to people you don’t know. I mean, you’ve warmed up to me, and I dare to say I’m a rather difficult person to be with.”

Yuuri held onto his arm a little tighter. “You are an easy person for me,” he murmured. “I don’t know why. But I shouldn’t question it, I guess. I like being with you and talking to you is easy, too.”

Victor had been called many things in his life - good and bad, from hero over annoying to faggot, there really had been everything. But no one had ever called him an easy person to be with. Or easy to talk to.

“I think you’re doing great, my Yuuri,” Victor said softly. They had reached the Senate, where a delegation stood on top of the stairs, waiting to greet them. 

Yuuri squeezed his arm. “Believe in me when I can’t, Victor,” he murmured. “That’s all I ask of you tonight.”

Victor blinked in confusion, not understanding how someone as wonderful and perfect as his Yuuri could not believe in himself. But he knew that they were things they still had to talk about, things that he didn’t know about Yuuri yet. It was hard at times to tell whether Yuuri was speaking, or if it was his anxiety that had taken control. 

But it was not on Victor to judge. 

“You’ll always have me, Yuuri,” Victor promised, and together, they began to ascend the stairs.

….

The banquet was a feast for all senses. 

To be fair, Victor had never been to a feast where the dishes seemed to be made of jewels that sparkled in the brightest colours, or where guests would randomly get up and join the musicians, taking over the instruments. Of course there had been courses at the Academy dealing with foreign customs and lessons on how to deal with what one didn’t know. But despite the foreignness of it all, Victor found the culture of the Berendi surprisingly easy to adjust to.

They had been seated on tables for eight people, mixing the crew with the locals. Victor and Yuuri had been placed at the largest table, the one of the High Council, together with Otabek and Yuri. The Head Engineer kept tugging on his collar as if he were struggling to breathe, whilst the pilot barely seemed able to take his eyes off the other man. 

“I hope the food is to your liking, Captain,” the councillor named Asagi next to them said. “We made sure that it is all edible for your kind.”

“It is delicious,” Victor assured the man cheerfully. “Right, Yuuri?”

Yuuri nodded wordlessly beside him, hiding behind a bowl of something similar to rice.

“And the Berendi culture is very interesting, I have to say,” Victor continued. “So similar to us but very different at the same time.”

Asagi smiled. “I have said just the same to my fellow councillors. But where similarities are, there are also differences. I have briefly studied the history files you provided for us, and it seems that there has been a lot of warfare on your planet. Which, truth be told, worries us a little.”

Victor laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. Indeed, they could not deny the bloody past of humankind.

“It worries us, too,” he said. “But there have been no wars on Earth itself for a few hundred years. We are determined to keep it that way. Too many lives have been lost in the past, and whilst I would never dare to claim that our kind is perfectly peaceful, we have come a long way. We are a species of explorers, but we are also often led by our emotions.”

The councillor nodded understandingly. “Oh, I do understand perfectly well,” he said solemnly. “We are a peaceful species that enjoys the nice and beautiful things in life the most. We devote our lives to them, one might say. But in the past, we also had to defend ourselves, even against our own kind. We have a remembrance hall dedicated to these times, if you would like to know more about this… truly shameful chapter of our past.”

Victor smiled and bowed his head whilst doing the hand gesture he had seen the Berendi do on several occasions. “I would be honoured to learn more about your culture. And I believe that our Ambassador, as you call him, would greatly benefit from the experience as well.” He gestured at Yuuri, who blushed at the sudden attention and hid himself even more behind his food. 

_ Oh, Yuuri _ , Victor thought as he looked at him fondly.  _ If you only knew how impressive you are. _

“Of course, of course,” Asagi smiled and returned the hand gesture. “I hope that you have been able to see some of our capital already?” Yook asked, leaning forward to pour them more drinks.

“Oh, yes,” Victor confirmed with a nod. “But one thing I found rather curious. When our pilot and I were exploring the town this afternoon, we were offered all sorts of goods from the shops. They refused to take payment from us, regardless of our efforts.”

The councillors surrounding them glanced at Yuri, who was in what seemed to be a deep conversation with Otabek about “whatever this stuff is, but it tastes like chicken” and didn’t notice the people looking at them until Otabek cleared his throat. Yuri stopped talking, beyond beauty and grace with his cheeks stuffed with food as he glared at them. 

Victor was pretty sure that if Yuri had not been eating - and if Otabek had not already shot a warning glance at him - the pilot would have snapped at the councillors with a rather colourful choice of words. 

“The fact that they wished to give you presents tells of a great honour that has been bestowed on you, Captain,” a young councillor at the end of the table said with a blush on her cheeks as she spoke. “For you see, beauty is what we treasure the most. And you and your pilot are amongst the most beautiful beings that we have ever seen.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Otabek muttered and shook his head in resignation.

Yuri, whose translation device was still not fixed, swallowed his food and glared at his boyfriend instead. “What are they saying?” He asked. “This damn thing isn’t translating shit.”

Otabek shot a glance at Victor, as if he were asking for help, but Victor merely grinned. 

This was a once in a lifetime opportunity to hear Otabek say the most absurd things. 

“They said you and Victor are the prettiest things they’ve ever seen, that’s why you got all the stuff in town for free,” Otabek sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.

“What.”

“You heard me.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I won’t repeat this.”

“Fuck yeah!” Yuri exclaimed and waved what seemed to be the fried leg of a bird into Victor’s direction. “So that’s why!”

Victor laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. He knew that he was good-looking, he had been told so by countless people and he couldn’t deny that he had taken advantage of his looks every now and then to get what he wanted. But no one had ever taken it as far as the Berendi and actually worshipped him for it. 

“Well,” he began with a chuckle. “That is… I must say, I’m flattered.”

“You have surely noticed our people’s reaction to you,” the councillor named Saga said, and she let her purple eyes wander over Victor with unashamed interest. “You can imagine what happened when we called for volunteers for the Giving.”

“The Giving?” Victor asked, but before he could get an answer, the councillor to their left had risen from his seat and the entire room fell silent in anticipation but the musicians kept playing. 

“A tradition of our people, beloved by the Berendi and always welcomed by our guests,” Asagi said, and the Berendi in the room nodded and hummed knowingly. “This time, we had so many volunteers that it was hard to make a choice in such a short time - especially for two people at once.”

“Do you know what they are talking about?” Victor whispered towards Yuuri, who shook his head but kept his gaze fixed on the councillor. It seemed as if Yuuri were thinking really fast, as if he were dreading his own suspicions. Victor frowned. 

But before he could ask Yuuri a second time, Asagi spoke again. 

“It is a great pleasure for me to announce tonight’s Giving for our special guests, Captain Nikiforov and Pilot Plisetsky.”

“What?” Yuri asked, turning around at the sound of commotion behind them, and the present Berendi applauded excitedly as two groups of the most beautiful girls that they had ever seen were taken into the hall and up to their table.

It took Victor a shamefully long moment to realise that half of these girls were meant for  _ him _ .

“We would like to give these girls to you, as your wives,” Asagi declared and bowed his head as he gestured at the giggling girls that all seemed _ way too excited _ to be there. “They are the most beautiful, most accomplished, and will be happy to be yours in whatever way you desire.”

Victor and Yuri exchanged a look, and before Victor could even think of composing an answer that would not endanger their newly founded friendship with the Berendi, Yuri had already opened his mouth.

“What the actual fuck?”

Victor laughed nervously, begging that the translation devices were still struggling with translating earth curses. 

“This is a most generous gift, most honourable counsellor,” he said and made the Berendi gesture of gratitude with his hands. “But forgive me when I say that I, well, that is we both… we are, you see-”

Asagi gasped. “Oh my! Of course! How inconsiderate of us! Please forgive us, Captain.” He clapped his hands twice and turned to the girls. “Quick, bring in the men instead!”

“What the fuck, old man?!” Yuri shrieked and could only be held back by Otabek, who had wound an arm around his waist to keep him seated. 

“Asagi, my friend,” Victor said and quickly rose from his seat, bowing to the other man. “We understand that the Giving is a tradition of the Berendi, and I’m honoured that you would let us take part in it. However, Plisetsky and I, we are… we are monogamous.” He stepped aside and gestured at Yuuri, who wordlessly sat beside him, his face as white as a sheet, and at Otabek, whose current patience with his own Yuri was something to be admired. “Some humans choose to have more than one partner, that is true. But for most of us, one partner is enough. For Plisetsky and me, that is the case. Therefore, we possibly couldn’t accept your most generous gift.”

Asagi stared at Victor with wide eyes, and so did the rest of the Berendi whilst the entire crew held their breath and waited for the reaction to Victor’s little speech. Asagi’s eyes wandered from Victor to Yuri, who glared at the man in disgust, and then to Otabek and Yuuri.

“You have my deepest admiration, Captain Nikiforov,” Asagi said and bowed his head. “And you too, Plisetsky. For most Berendi find monogamy the quality that is the hardest to master, the most impossible one to follow. To remain monogamous is our greatest declaration of love to another being. Of course we respect your wishes. I hope we did not offend you.”

“Not at all,” Victor assured him and shot a warning glance at Yuri. “Please, let us continue with this evening as if nothing had happened.”

“That is a good idea,” Georgi commented, raising his glass. “It seems that the wish to end disputes peacefully is another shared trait of our races.”

“Indeed,” Victor agreed and sat down again, instinctively reaching for Yuuri’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Yuuri’s squeeze in return could be barely felt.

“So that means,” Saga began, leaning forward and looking at Yuuri, who almost jumped at the sudden attention. “You’re his life partner?”

“Uh,” Yuuri said nervously, swallowing thickly. “I… guess so.”

“Wow,” another man said, moving closer to Yuuri. “How did you do that?”

“D-Do what?” Yuuri asked in confusion. 

“Seduce him!” Saga chuckled. “A man as beautiful as your partner must have had many people around him, trying to get his attention. What made you stand out?”

“Yes, what is your secret?” A third man asked, and suddenly, Yuuri was surrounded by a bunch of curious Berendi, eager to know the secret to getting the most beautiful man in the universe.

Victor felt Yuuri’s anxiety well up before his boyfriend could even take a breath, and he broke up the circle of Berendi to come to his rescue. “With his smile, of course!” He exclaimed, wrapping an arm around Yuuri to show him that he was there. “And with his kindness, his gentleness, and with the lovely blush that he gets whenever I kiss him.”

The people sighed dreamily around them and then turned to Otabek, who looked as if he’d just bitten into a very sour lemon. 

“What he said,” he muttered and hid behind his drink, absolutely not in the mood to answer the Berendi’s questions about his seduction skills. 

Maya laughed, appearing behind her brother and wrapping her arms around both Yuri and Otabek. “These two needed a matchmaker, just so you know,” he said, pecking the cheeks of both. 

“For fuck’s sake, Maya!” Yuri snapped and pushed her away, but she merely laughed and ruffled her brother’s hair. 

“So many things can enchant human beings,” Victor explained, keeping his arm firmly around Yuuri and kissing his temple. “But for me, it was everything that Yuuri Katsuki is.”

The girls surrounding them sniffed. “That was so beautiful…”

Victor grinned. “No, the only beautiful thing in this room to me is my Yuuri.”

“Victor…” Yuuri murmured and blushed deeply at the praise, but Victor merely pulled him closer and let him hide his face in his embrace. Yuuri was the last person on earth to ever want to be in the centre of attention, and he respected that. 

“But someone who is definitely not against polygamy is our dear Doctor Giacometti!” He told the ladies and pointed at the other table. “I’m sure he’d love to meet you all.”

That seemed to do the trick, and before they knew it, the young Berendi had gathered around a surprised but very pleased Christophe who had just been telling his neighbours at the table about earth customs regarding romance. 

Victor chuckled to himself and reached for his drink, taking a sip before turning to Yuuri. The Japanese was still pale, the attention having been too much for him, and his hands buried in the fabric of his gala uniform. 

“Are you okay?” Victor asked quietly. “Can I get you something? Do you want to leave?”

But Yuuri shook his head, as if he were forcing himself to stay calm. “I’m okay,” he assured Victor, briefly meeting his eyes. 

“Are you sure?” Victor asked, reaching out to take his hand again. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem if you-”

“I said I’m fine,” Yuuri said a little louder and withdrew his hand from Victor’s grasp, grabbing his own drink and taking a few large sips.

Victor wordlessly let go of him.

…. 

He didn’t know what time it was when they finally went back to the resort. 

Seung-gil had the room next to them, and Victor watched in amusement as the Korean politely declined the housemaid’s offer to help him ‘relax’ whilst Yuuri unlocked the door and slipped inside. 

“Don’t be so hard on her,” Victor said to his second-in-command with a wink. 

“Good night, Victor,” Seung-gil said sourly, and Victor waved at him before following Yuuri into their little apartment. The lights had been automatically dimmed to suit the late hour, and someone had brought a jug of a hot beverage for them to drink before bed. Most likely a Berendar speciality, Victor suspected. 

He shut the door behind him and kicked off his shoes whilst unbuttoning his jacket. As much as he liked his gala uniform, there was no better feeling than taking the stiff thing off after a long evening. He could hear Yuuri in the bathroom, probably using the toilet and brushing his teeth. 

For someone like Yuuri, Victor thought, an event like this surely was a nightmare come true. It was not that Yuuri was antisocial. On the contrary, he knew that his boyfriend loved spending time with his friends. But when it came to official matters and meeting strangers, Yuuri became incredibly shy, and almost impossible to lure out of his shell. 

He just hoped that this evening had not been too much for his beloved.

Victor stretched with a sigh and put on the shirt he usually slept in before checking the hot beverage waiting for them on the table. It smelled sweet, almost like chocolate. 

He poured them a cup each, taking them with him to bed where he waited for Yuuri to come back from the bathroom. Carefully, he took a sip from his own cup, humming in delight at the sweet, foreign taste. 

“Yuuri, this stuff is amazing!” He called out. “Are you okay in there?”

Yuuri did not reply.

Victor put the cups down on the bedside table and got off the bed, approaching the bathroom door slowly. “Yuuri, my love?” He asked through the door. A brief glance down told him that it was unlocked. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m okay,” Yuuri replied, his voice unsteady, as if he were keeping himself from crying. 

Victor was instantly alerted.

“Yuuri, I’m coming in, okay?” He said loudly, reaching for the door handle. But before he could enter the bathroom, Yuuri had opened the door for him. He was still wearing his gala uniform, with only the collar unbuttoned. His face was strangely wet, as if he had been washing his face with his bare hands.

“Yuuri, are you alright?” Victor asked worriedly. “Is there anything that I can-”

“I’m okay,” Yuuri murmured and moved past him into the bedroom, starting to take off his uniform. Victor stepped aside, watching him undress and then search for his pyjamas in the wardrobe that they had filled with their clothes earlier. 

“You don’t seem like it, Yuuri,” Victor said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “If I have done something wrong then I-”

Yuuri slammed the door of the wardrobe shut.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he muttered as he pulled his sleeping shirt over his head and made his way over to his bag, searching for something. Only then Victor noticed that Yuuri’s hands were shaking.

Something was definitely wrong. 

Yuuri kept searching through his bag, pulling out pill bottle after pill bottle, becoming more upset with every medication that he found. “Where… where are they, I can’t have forgotten them on the sh-ship…”

Victor got up again, making his way over to Yuuri. “Please, Yuuri, let me help y-” He reached out to touch his hand, but Yuuri flinched at the sudden movement, stumbling backwards. 

“Yuuri…”

“Don’t… please don’t,” Yuuri murmured, looking away. “I’m just looking for my… my anxiety pills, that’s all.” He said it quietly, as if he were ashamed of needing them. As if Victor, who saw himself as the greatest wreck walking, would laugh at him for relying on them.

Victor watched Yuuri for a moment, took in his boyfriend’s appearance, the pale cheeks and the fearful eyes that avoided him at all cost. 

“Maybe they’re in your other bag,” he said softly and went over to the wardrobe where they had stored their bags after unpacking. He opened the doors and took the small bag from the bottom, quickly searching it for Yuuri before moving on to the next bag. 

“A-ha.” Victor grinned triumphantly and pulled out a small pill bottle, the very same that usually could be found on Yuuri’s bedside table. It was regular anxiety medication, the very same that Victor had taken for some time as well, but for him, they had been too weak.

“There you go.” He gave Yuuri the pill bottle and the hot drink, taking the opportunity to gently brush his thumb over the back of Yuuri’s hand. “Try this, love, it tastes amazing.” 

Yuuri wordlessly took the mediation and the cup from him. Victor smiled at him and then went back to the bed, wanting to give Yuuri some privacy.

He had just settled on the bed and picked up his communicator to check for messages as Yuuri suddenly began to speak again, his voice quiet and very small.

“Why me?”

Victor looked up.

Yuuri stood by his open bag, the pills and the steaming cup in his hand. 

“I’m sorry?” Victor asked, putting the device down again.

Yuuri let out a shaky breath. “Why me?” He asked Victor, this time looking him in the eye for a very short moment. “Why… why do you like me?”

Victor frowned, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “What do you mean?” He asked worriedly. “Why should I not like you?”

“Because you’re way out of my league!”

Yuuri had squeezed his eyes shut, as if he were trying to keep tears from falling. “You’re way too good for me! With your looks and your achievements and your reputation and charms and-”

“Yuuri!” Victor had crossed the room within the blink of an eye, taking the cup and the pill bottle out of his hands. “Yuuri, why would you say such a thing? How could I ever be too good for you?”

“Have you looked into a mirror recently?” Yuuri cried out, wrapping his arms around himself. “And then looked at me? You could have anyone! All those pretty men and women tonight, they were all dying to get your attention! Why do you think they looked at me the way they did when they found out I was with you? I’m ridiculous! I’m nothing compared to you! I’m pathetic and-”

“Yuuri!” Victor grasped him by his shoulders, shaking him lightly. “Why would you say something so terrible? You’re more than I could possibly want! I love you so much, Yuuri, so, so much!”

“Then why can’t I believe it?!” Yuuri screamed, falling forward and burying his face in Victor’s chest. Victor’s eyes widened in shock at Yuuri’s reaction, but instinctively wrapped his arms around him and held him close as he cried. Yuuri’s body shook with every sob that escaped his throat, the anxiety attack too strong this time for him to fight against it, or to suppress it, even. 

Victor knew the feeling only too well. How crippling it could be. 

The terrible thoughts it fed to one’s brain, and made its victim believe every single word.

And then, Victor remembered the things that Yuuri had mentioned a while ago.

The name-calling he’d suffered as a child. The impostor syndrome he couldn’t get rid of. The fact that he almost never saw Yuuri shirtless. 

“I don’t want you to think that I’m disgusting,” Yuuri whispered between sobs. “But that’s all I ever see when I look in the mirror.”

“Oh, Yuuri…” Victor breathed, burying his face in Yuuri’s hair, holding him as close as possible, refusing to ever let go. “How could I ever think such a terrible thing of you? My beautiful, wonderful Yuuri?”

Yuuri hiccuped, pulling away a little bit to wipe the tears from his face. “Y-You don’t have to tell me w-well-m-meaning lies.”

“I would never lie to you, Yuuri,” Victor said immediately and took the opportunity to cup his boyfriend’s cheek. “I don’t care what people called you in the past, or what those terrible mirrors on the Agape try to tell you. I’ll throw out every single one of them if that is what it takes to show you that you are beautiful. And even if you cannot believe it yourself, can it not be enough that I find you absolutely breathtaking? Can that not be enough for now?”

Victor knew that one conversation would not be enough to destroy Yuuri’s doubts, that it would take years to undo the damage that had been done in his childhood. But maybe he could convince Yuuri to believe  _ him  _ at least, if he could not believe himself just yet.

Yuuri said nothing, avoiding to look Victor in the eye.

“Do you know what beauty gets you, Yuuri?” Victor asked softly, caressing his cheek. “A lot of incredibly shallow things. They might seem meaningful at first but then you realise that none of it is actually worth anything. I have wanted to rip off that face of mine and exchange it for a different one so many times. When people look at me, they already form their opinion of me. Do you know what people think when they see you, my love?”

Yuuri sniffed, shaking his head.

“When people look at you, they see your kind heart. Your warmth. Your… graciousness. Your incredible talent to make everyone around you feel welcome, and loved. Yuuri, when I looked at you for the first time I knew that I could trust you, that I could be myself around you, that you would actually bother to look past my name. And this is why I love you, Yuuri Katsuki, why I love you so damn much that I would never, ever look at anyone else.” 

Victor had had many lovers in the past - so many that he couldn’t even remember all of their names. Very few had actually mattered to him, and even fewer had proven to be not after his name and money. 

And only one of them had become so important to him that a life without him seemed unbearable.

“I’m constantly afraid, Victor,” Yuuri finally said, meeting his gaze again. The sadness that Victor found in Yuuri’s eyes was heartbreaking, and he wished that he could just kiss it away. But a world in which such a thing would be possible would have been an incredibly tender one.

“So am I,” Victor replied, kissing Yuuri’s forehead. “Every day, I’m afraid of you realising that I’m not worth the effort. With my past and… and my antics. But… maybe we can carry our burdens together. That wouldn’t sound too bad, would it.”

Yuuri sniffed, leaning into Victor’s touch. “I suppose…”

And with that, Victor let go of him again. Instead, he took the pills and the cup from the table and gave them to Yuuri again. “And there’s no shame in helping that cause.”

Yuuri nodded wordlessly and took the pills, tossing two of them into his mouth and washing them down with a sip from the cup. Victor laughed as Yuuri looked at the drink in genuine amazement.

“I told you it was good,” he said. “Let’s go to bed. Okay?”

Yuuri followed him across the room and into bed like a child, sipping the hot beverage whilst the medication took its effect. Victor had pulled out his phone for the first time in weeks, scrolling through the folder with pictures of Makkachin, telling Yuuri the story behind every single one of it to distract him. Yuuri listened patiently, at some point even telling Victor that he’d had a mini poodle as a child, and that his name had been Vicchan. 

That after losing him, things had gone downhill.

“Makkachin will love you,” Victor whispered into his ear and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. “When we get back, I’ll introduce you to her, and you’ll be the best of friends. I just know it.”

“If we get back, that is,” Yuuri mumbled sleepily.

Victor shook his head, pulling the duvet up to their chins, making sure that Yuuri was tucked in properly. “Not  _ if _ , my Yuuri,” he said quietly, nuzzling his hair. “ _ When _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us know what you think!


	14. Interlude: Ghosts of the Past, Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a specialty chapter, that fits right into the thick of the main story line. We've been planning it for over half a year, so I'm really happy to present to you our first Interlude: Ghosts of the Past, Pt. 1

_**Interlude** _

_**Ghosts of the Past, Pt. 1** _

 

* * *

 

“ _ And here comes the winner of this year’s Top of the World, after his breathtaking performance of Chopin’s Etude in G# minor, Opus 25, number 6 - Lee Seung-gil! _ ”

Seung-gil sat back on the sofa, pulling one leg up and resting his chin on his knee as he watched himself enter the stage and walk towards the podium, where an old man in a suit was waiting for him with the trophy. He remembered how stiff his own suit had felt that evening, despite being tailored exclusively for him. But then again, the entire competition had been quite a suffocating experience. He had never felt so awful in his entire life. So terribly out of place.

Faking smiles wherever he looked.

“ _ No one was surprised that evening when Lee Seung-gil, Korea’s most famous piano prodigy, won the Top of the World competition for the fourth time in a row. At age 23, he is already considered to be one of the greatest Korean musicians of all time. He is best known for his sharp skill and his tendency to choose the most difficult pieces, regardless of the nature of the competition. Lee has stated in one of his rare interviews that he started playing the piano at age four under the watchful eyes of his tutor, who has worked with him ever since. _ ”

Seung-gil huffed, reaching for the glass of wine he had poured himself earlier, taking a large sip. Watchful eyes did not even cover it. He had not even been allowed to withdraw his fingers from the instrument until he had played the piece perfectly. So it had always been, since his fourth birthday, when his mother had decided that the piano would be his to master. 

But those times were over now.

Right after the competition they were now showing on television, he had pulled his tutor aside and had revoked their contract and collaboration. The woman had been appalled, had told him to think things through, to reconsider his decision. But Seung-gil had never been so sure about something his whole life. At 23, he was finally able to decide things - at least some things - for himself. Whilst he had to admit that playing the piano was something that he was more than just good at, he felt that it was time to move on. It had never brought him the joy other musicians had told him about behind the stage during competitions. He had never woken in the mornings, dying to tickle the ivories. 

He had realised that he wanted to quit at age seventeen. Now, six years later, he had finally gathered the courage to go through with it.

Tomorrow, he would fly back to Seoul, where he would have to face his parents and tell them about his decision. He was not sure how they would react. Most likely, they would tell him off for not consulting them first. But Seung-gil found that he did not care. He would never return to the stage as a pianist, that he had sworn to himself the moment he had walked out of the theatre last night. It was time to move on. 

Where to, he was not entirely sure.

The report about the competition went on and on, and Seung-gil switched to the Starfleet channel, allowing himself to get lost in a special about the latest peace negotiations with the Drichans. 

 

….

 

The flight back to Seoul was quiet, thanks to his First Class ticket, and Seung-gil used the time to catch up on sleep. As expected, his family’s chauffeur was at the airport to pick him up, and he greeted the older man with a polite nod before following him to the parking lot. The ride to his parents’ home was quiet, as Seung-gil preferred to not speak after long flights, and their chauffeur knew that. Nonetheless, he thanked the man as they arrived at their destination, in front of a large, modern mansion in the Cheongdam neighbourhood. Taking his luggage out of the trunk personally, he walked up the steps to the front door and let himself in.

It was still early in the morning, but his family was already up, as usual. A maid walked up to him and greeted him politely before taking his suitcase from him to unpack. Seung-gil let her, already mentally preparing himself to face his family that was currently assembled in the dining room and following their morning routine that had been exactly the same for the last twenty years. Even as a child, he had been expected to follow the regime. 

And being the obedient eldest son, he had never once complained. 

The view presented to Seung-gil was exactly the same every morning. His father sat at the head of the table, reading a newspaper while furiously typing away on his tablet, sending angry messages to the office. His mother sat to his left, nursing a cup of tea while discussing today’s schedule with her personal assistant, a shy woman that looked like she had been beaten with a cane whenever her boss addressed her. Neither of his parents looked up as he entered. Only his younger brother, round-faced and chewing his cereal while revising his homework, grinned upon his arrival and dropped his spoon, moving to rise from his chair and greet him. 

“Lee Dae-young!” Their mother said sharply and Dae-young immediately sat down again, lowering his head and reaching for the books again. Nonetheless, the boy smiled at Seung-gil as he moved to take his seat on the other side of the table, next to his mother, reaching for the coffee pot. 

“The garden must look impeccable, we cannot have wilted blossoms on the bushes again. Fire the gardeners and replace them with new ones if you must,” his mother said. “I want bouquets of white, purple, and blue roses on every table, matching the glasses. The table for Yoon Jae-Ha must stand precisely in the middle between the pillars and close to the pond, but not too close for the sun to-” Her phone began to rang and she picked up, barking at the person on the other end for disturbing her so early in the morning. 

Dae-young and Seung-gil exchanged a knowing look and continued their breakfast in silence.

“What are you standing there like that, get busy!” Their mother said to her assistant, who winced and bowed quickly before hurrying out of the room. Seung-gil watched her go, feeling sorry for the young woman who was clearly not made for a job like this. 

“Stop getting ideas, boy,” Seung-gil heard his father say, and he turned his head towards him in confusion. “A woman like this is not a suitable partner for you.”

“I was not-”

“Listen to your father, Seung-gil,” his mother interrupted him and took a sip from her tea. “I have told the maids to make space for your trophy. It shall be displayed in the drawing room for our friends to see. From now on, they will all be put there. Top of the World next to Top of the World, as it should be.”

Seung-gil shifted on his chair, his grip on the cup of coffee tightening a little. Clearly, his mother was expecting him to keep competing, to keep winning trophies and continue his career as a pianist. After all, it had been her plan from the very beginning. She had chosen this path for him.

“This won’t be necessary,” Seung-Gil said, his voice surprisingly firm as he spoke. “I have revoked the contract with Kim Jang-mi after the competition. I will no longer compete.”

The silence that fell over the table was the iciest that Seung-gil had ever experienced. From the corner of his eye, he could see his brother freeze on his seat, his large eyes flickering fearfully between him, his mother, and his father as he waited for the inevitable, for the first person to yell. 

Their father lowered his newspaper, studying Seung-gil intently, like a hawk that had just caught its prey.

“And why is that?” He asked curtly. 

“I felt that it was time to move on,” Seung-gil said, trying to sound braver than he felt. He could do this. If he only sold the idea to his parents, he would be fine. “I have been playing since I was four, and I am grateful for the experience and everything that came with it. But now I am twenty-three, and most of my peers have already begun with their studies. I-”

“How dare you decide such a thing without our consent!” His mother barked, her palm hitting the table. “After everything we have done for you and put into your education you just-”

“He is right.” 

Both Seung-Gil and Dae-young stared at their father as he spoke, and their mother shut up immediately, looking at her husband in surprise. “He should be at university already. It is high time that he starts using his brain for the good of our family, and our company. I will make a few calls, so he can start with his studies right away. The semester has already started, but I have no doubt that he will catch up with the rest of the students within a week. The head of the faculty is an old friend of mine. It should not be a problem to have him enrolled for Law by the end of the day.”

His mother huffed, but said nothing more. Instead, she drank the rest of her tea and then rose from the table, walking out of the room without looking at her sons a second time. 

Seung-gil looked down at his coffee. 

“Father, about that… I don’t think I-”

“You will exceed all expectations, as usual,” his father said and rose as well, drinking the rest of his coffee and reaching for his phone. “I will have the books sent to you by the end of the day, and I expect you to start studying by tomorrow morning. I cannot have the university laugh at our family because my son is merely a mediocre student.”

And with that, he walked out of the dining room and left the house to drive to the office.

Seung-gil sighed, burying his face in his hands and letting out a long, frustrated groan. 

“You don’t want to study Law, do you?”

As always, Dae-young was able to see right through him.

“Do I look like a lawyer to you,” he muttered, lowering his hands and reaching for the coffee again. 

Dae-young smiled. “A bit, actually,” he joked. 

Seung-gil refilled his cup and took a large sip before he found the strength to look at his younger brother. Dae-young often seemed to be his only ally in this house, although there was very, very little that they both could do. Their parents’ decree had to be followed at all times. There was no room for discussions - or objections. 

Everything had been planned for them since the day they had been born, and Seung-gil was sure that within the next few years, his parents would affiance him with the daughter of one of their business partners. 

Nothing in his life was truly his own decision.

“I wanted to ask Father to allow me to apply for Starfleet Academy,” Seung-gil murmured. 

Dae-young gave him a sympathetic look. “You know he would never allow that,” the teenager said, closing his books. Seung-gil glanced at the cover. Advanced calculus. Not exactly his brother’s favourite subject. 

“Do you need help with that?” He asked in an attempt to change the subject,  and Dae-young’s face lit up.

“Yes, please!” He exclaimed and Seung-gil got up, moving to sit next to his brother to take a look at his homework. “I don’t understand this stuff at all!”

 

….

 

As expected, excellent grades began to grace the work of Lee Seung-gil, Law student at the Seoul National University. 

He studied hard, knowing himself and his limits well as he spent countless nights in the library, revising the coursework and rewatching the lectures to make sure he had not missed anything. His hard work paid off quickly, and his professors began to respect him for his work, not for his family’s reputation. The other students began to notice him as well, approaching him after class and inviting him for lunch or coffee. However, Seung-gil knew that they were not doing this out of sheer friendliness, but for the name he carried. They were eager to get a piece of him, of his family, for their personal gain. He was no fool, yet he accepted their invitations, socialising with them in an appropriate manner that would please his father. 

Real friendships never formed. 

And neither did relationships with women.

Seung-gil could not complain about a lack of attention like some of his peers. In fact, he found small notes on his books almost every day, whenever he returned from a short trip to the restroom. Notes with phone numbers, sometimes including little messages and the woman’s name, but Seung-gil never responded to a single one of them. As a result, the notes stopped, and he received the reputation of hating women in general. Which was not true at all - Korean women were simply not his taste. 

Everyone who would have checked under his mattress at some point would have been able to confirm that Lee Seung-gil did in fact take an interest in the female physique. 

He was content with his life as it was, but the more he studied and the longer he stayed awake at night to get all the information into his head, the more he realised that happiness was something he did not really know.

He closed his books and retreated to the bed, switching on the television, just in time to watch an interview with Yakov Feltsman, one of the most renowned admirals of Starfleet. 

Even as a little boy, Seung-gil had loved watching the Starfleet channel. Whenever his parents had been out and his nanny had had a good day, she allowed him to watch the documentaries. It had not taken long for him to ask his parents for books about Starfleet and space, and much to his surprise, they had given him what he wanted. He had hidden under the covers with a flashlight, reading late into the night, getting lost in the stories of the first men and women to take to the stars in the 20th century, about the First Contact that had taken place in 2052, and how Starfleet had developed from there. 

“ _ It is the passion of all the men and women at Starfleet that keeps us going _ ,” Admiral Feltsman said to the reporter. “ _ It is in our nature to be curious. Humankind has always reached for the stars, and we will continue to do so. But it is the passion of those that actually dare to explore the universe that keeps humankind going as a species. Without our passion, we are nothing. _ ”

Seung-gil looked over at his desk that was still covered in books and papers. 

Passion was something he would never find between those pages.

 

….

 

The following day, he opened a second bank account and transferred the money he had won in competitions. 

One week later, he applied for Starfleet Academy in San Francisco. The papers arrived at the address of the maid that kept his rooms in order and his magazine collection a secret. 

 

….

 

Six weeks later, Seung-gil dropped out of university and enrolled online at the Academy in San Francisco. He was one of only five students to receive a full scholarship that term.

He had his suitcases packed and the ticket to America saved on his phone as he descended the stairs and headed towards his father’s office at the end of the corridor. It was surprising that his father had not yet heard about the recent developments - not even that he had dropped out of university. He had expected that the head of the faculty would call his father immediately, but apparently, no such thing had happened. 

There was not much to say. He would inform his father of his decision and then take a taxi to the airport. San Francisco was far away enough from his parents to allow him to live freely for the first time in his life, and thanks to the scholarship, he did not have to spend the money he had won on his education - his father would certainly not pay for Starfleet Academy.

As Seung-gil entered the office, he saw that his father was not alone. His personal assistant was with him as well as two of his business partners, all four of them discussing a graph chart on a large screen. Upon his arrival, the men stopped talking, and his father looked at him in slight annoyance. 

“I need to talk to you,” Seung-gil said. “In private. It cannot wait.”

His father frowned, but much to Seung-gil’s surprise, he did as he asked and sent the others out, turning off the screen as he looked at his son expectantly. 

It would be a short conversation, Seung-gil told himself. Quick and painless. 

“I saw your last paper,” his father said before he could even open his mouth. “Excellent work. I dare to say that I feel somewhat proud.”

Those words would have meant the world to Seung-gil in any other situation. But not anymore. 

“Thank you,” he said, trying to stay calm. “But I will no longer continue with Law. I have dropped out this morning.”

His father stared at him for a long moment, his eyes wide in shock and the vein on his forehead began to pulsate dangerously, as it always did when he was about to explode.

“You did  _ what? _ ” He spat, leaning forward over his desk.

Seung-gil had never felt so intimidated by his father before, not even as a young boy when he had been shouted at for falling asleep at the dinner table after practising at the piano for ten hours. But the time to feel intimidated was over. The time to be a child was over. 

He had studied law for almost two years. Two years of his life, wasted for something he had no passion for, for a life that he did not want to have. 

“I am grateful for everything you have done for me, Father,” Seung-gil said, forcing himself to stay calm. It was anything but easy, after over twenty years of subordination. “But I do not wish to become a lawyer, and I do not wish to take over the company.”

His father shook his head. “I will not allow this,” he said, reaching for the telephone. “I will call the university immediately and tell them that there has been a mistake.”

“It was not, and I will not return to Law,” Seung-gil said, louder this time. “I have other plans.”

“YOU WILL TAKE OVER THE COMPANY!” His father yelled, slamming his fist onto the table. “YOU UNGRATEFUL CHILD! Do you think this is a game? Do you think that you could ever do something else? You have been prepared for this your whole life, boy!”

“What is going on here?!” His mother had entered the room, a file in her hand. “What is this about?”

“Our son here has dropped out of university, that is what happened!” His father barked. 

Seung-gil looked at his mother, who had already begun to shout at him, but he barely heard her. It was always the same, anyway. 

“After everything we have done for you!”

“This company is yours to have in the future! For our family!”

“Who do you think you are that you-”

“I will move to America!” Seung-gil said loudly between their shouts. “I received a full scholarship for Starfleet Academy and I intend to use it. I will join the Forces and-”

Whilst his mother stared at him with wide eyes in disbelief, his father only began to laugh coldly. “You heard that? The boy wants to go to space! Madness, that is what this is!”

Seung-gil shook his head. “Think of it what you like, but I will do this. I have lived my life the way you wanted it until now, but I will no longer do so. I do not care what you think of it, and although I wish I had your support-”

“Our  _ support _ !”

“-this is what I wish to do with my life. Whether you like it or not. I will leave Korea tonight, and you will not stop me.”

The silence that fell over the room was one that Seung-gil had never experienced before. He was used to his parents yelling at him and his brother for minor things. 

But not to his parents whispering their threats. 

“If you leave now, you can consider yourself disinherited.” His father’s voice was pure ice, but Seung-gil found himself not feeling threatened in the slightest. 

Money did not matter to him. He had enough of it himself.

“Then you can call your lawyers and remove my name from the testament first thing in the morning,” Seung-gil said and then looked at his mother, who was looking at him as if he had just confessed to be a mass murderer. “I’m sorry for bringing you pain, mother, but this is what I need to do.”

“Get out,” she whispered. “Out of my sight.”

Seung-gil left the study without another word and went back upstairs to get his suitcase.

Only as he entered his room he allowed himself to breathe again, leaning against the wall in sheer exhaustion. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, as if he had been running a marathon, but it felt good. It felt extremely good. 

He had finally broken away from his father after almost twenty-five years.

For twenty-five years, he had followed his father’s decree, had done what he wanted, had lived a life that had never been his. 

The prospect of being free for good was terrifying. But Seung-gil had already reached the point of no return. He would not back down again.

A soft knock on his door brought him back to reality, and as Seung-gil opened, he found his younger brother standing in front of him, looking at him with a worried expression on his face.

“You’re leaving?” The boy asked before Seung-gil could even open his mouth. He swallowed thickly.

“Dae-young…”

“Fucking finally.” Before he knew it, he felt his brother’s arms around him, and a pat on his back. The hug lasted only a second, for Dae-young pulled away again and beamed at his older brother in pride. “I knew you could do it. I’ve been betting on it with the maid for months!” He then glanced at the packed suitcase behind Seung-gil, his smile faltering a little. “Although I didn’t think you’d leave immediately after telling them.”

“Dae-young…” Seung-gil realised only then that he had entirely missed a rather important detail in his plan - his teenage brother. 

“Now don’t ruin yourself because of me,” Dae-young said quickly, shaking his head. “You have to go. I know that. I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I just…” He sighed and reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a piece of paper and giving it to Seung-gil. “I saw this at the bus stop near school and… well…”

Seung-gil unfolded the paper and smoothed it out a little. It was a casting call for a popular music show, the one that he had caught Dae-young watching a few times. One of those bright and colourful tv programmes that their father had always called a ‘waste of time’, and so, Dae-young had always watched them in secret. 

“I know it’s silly,” Dae-young murmured, scratching the back of his head. “And I probably won’t even make it to round two, but-”

“Do it.” Seung-gil took his brother’s hand and placed the paper in his palm. “You won’t know unless you try. And besides, I’ve heard you sing in the shower. You have a good voice.”

Dae-young blushed, showing the paper back into his pocket. “You… you think so?” He asked.

“I’ve got an ear for music, remember?” He said dryly and glanced at his watch. It was high time for him to leave. The plane would not wait for him. 

“Go,” Dae-young said softly, following his brother’s gaze. “I… I just… just call me every now and then, yeah? I don’t want to hear about my super intelligent brother on the news only.”

Seung-gil chuckled. “Keep me updated about this singing thing,” he said and then pulled his younger brother into a hug, his heart clenching painfully in his chest as he realised that he would most likely not get to see him for a very long time. “And don’t let Mother and Father get you down.”

“Okay,” the teenager murmured before pulling away. 

He helped Seung-gil with his suitcase as they descended the stairs. The taxi was already waiting. His parents, however, were nowhere to be seen. Only Dae-young was there to say goodbye, and the boy stood on the stairs, watching the taxi disappear into the night.

Seung-gil felt guilty for leaving his brother behind, but he knew that this was his only chance of a life in autonomy. Even if it meant that he would not return to Korea anytime soon.

 

….

 

Dae-young won the show with flying colours and was promptly thrown out of the house. 

But, being a K-pop star with his own tv show in the making, the teen could not have cared less. 

 

….

 

The brothers met again two months later at Starfleet Academy in San Francisco. 

Dae-young had insisted on helping his brother to move into his room, and Seung-gil had not had the heart to tell him no. On the one hand, he was glad to see his brother again. However, after hearing that their parents had thrown him out as well, he could not help but feel responsible for everything. After all, he had been the one to encourage Dae-young to apply for the show. But he had not thought that his parents would kick him out before he had even turned eighteen.

“I’m okay, really!” Dae-young told him cheerfully, winking at a few girls that recognised him as they approached the student halls where Seung-gil would live during his studies at the Academy. “It’s really nice to live with the other band members, and our manager is really cool, too, she-”

“I just don’t want people to use you,” Seung-gil said to him as they entered the building and picked up the keys from the reception. 

“They can’t get money from me, anyway,” Dae-young shrugged. “Since you’ve got your hands on that.”

“I don’t have my hands on your money, I merely-”

“I was kidding, darling” Dae-young said, looking around as they walked down a corridor, searching for the room with the number 208. It turned out to be the last door to their right, and it was already open. “Seems like your roommate is already-”

“YOU’RE HERE!!” 

Something tall and very silver threw itself at him and pulled him into the room. Seung-gil almost tripped over his own feet, barely managing to grab his suitcase for support. 

The tall and silver thing turned out to be a young man with the brightest head of hair that Seung-gil had ever seen. His eyes were of a shining blue, and his heart-shaped smile was covering almost his entire face, which should definitely not have been possible. 

“Hi, I’m Victor! You must be Seung-gil! Want a drink? Chris has got us a few bottles of  _ Your Mother’s Disgrace _ !”

A young man with blonde hair and a brown undercut winked at him from the bed by the window, holding a large bottle in his hand. “Bonjour,” the man called Chris purred, letting his eyes wander over the men in front of him.

“We’ll be roommates for the year! Isn’t that exciting?” The young man called Victor said happily. “I was not sure whether to apply for the Russian Academy or maybe the one in Berlin but then I thought hey, what about a fresh start in America! So now I’m here and I absolutely can’t wait to get started! Oh, is that your brother? Oh my God you’re Lee Dae-young! I’ve seen you on tv just yesterday! Come in, come in, have a drink, too!”

“Thanks!”

“No way, Dae-young, you’re a minor!” Seung-gil hissed.

“But Seung-gil!”

The Korean closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

This was going to be a very, very long year.

 

…

 

Seung-gil couldn’t help but smile at the memory of his first day at the Academy. If he had thought that making it there without the support of his family would be difficult, then what was he supposed to think of the situation they were facing now?

Things had changed since then, of course. Dae-young was a more or less responsible adult now, able to manage his finances on his own. Their parents spoke to them again, albeit they only ever called maybe every few months. Seung-gil knew that they only had reached out to them again because they both now occupied respectable positions; himself at Starfleet, and Dae-young as a successful singer, actor, and tv host, famous in the entire galaxy. 

If their paths had taken them to less successful careers, their parents certainly would not have contacted them again. 

Seung-gil tried to maintain a neutral relationship to them, respecting them as his parents, but nothing more. They no longer got to tell him what to do.

Dae-young, however, refused to answer any of their calls to this day.

The Korean let his eyes wander over the rooftops of the city below, taking deep, even breaths of the foreign air. He would have never dared to believe that one day, he would stand on the surface of a foreign planet, surrounded by a species no human had encountered before. And yet, here he was. Home was incredibly far away. 

But then again, was earth an actual home to him?

Everything about his life had only ever felt temporary. His education, his apartment in San Francisco, his desk job at the Academy right after graduation, his first job as a pilot on the  _ USS Almavivo _ . 

The laughter from the garden below pulled him out of his thoughts, and as he looked down, he saw the familiar dark head of hair that belonged to Maya, talking to a giggling group of alien girls that were apparently trying to paint her palms with ink.

Seung-gil found that he no longer wanted temporary things. 

It was time to find something, perhaps even  _ someone _ , that would last.

 

…………. 

 

In the Altin family, there was only one thing that you were allowed to be when you grew up, and that depended on who you were.

 For Otabek, the expectation was _a doctor._ His father was a doctor, and his father before him, and his before that-- so on and so on. For Maya, it was to _marry well, mind the home and have children-- preferably strong sons._ It wasn't a _competition_ , but their mother would tell them that she was to do as well, if not better than she herself.

 So far, Otabek and Maya were pretty fucking disappointing, if he were any judge of character.

 " _Engineering_ ," his father said, his lips twisting around the word in a nasty sneer. He wasn't wasn't usually a hateful man, but he didn't pull his punches when he was confronted by something he didn't approve of.

 And his son wanting to become an engineer instead of a Doctor, absolutely found its way onto that list.

 " _Ake_ \--" Otabek started, but was instantly cut off.

 "I enrolled you into medical school already," was the curt reply. The _as was expected_ didn't need to be said, because Otabek already knew. He winced at the tone.

 "Sabir," his mother said in a hushed tone. She wasn't some cowering lamb around his father, but she rarely raised her voice at the man. She sat there on the couch beside his father, her green hijab tucked loosely around her face. "Let our son explain himself, at least."

 Sabir let out an derisive snort, but to Otabek's surprise, motioned for him to continue.

 "I'm good with math," Otabek said, his voice a tad weak. "And I'm good with physics. The human body? Not so much, but--"

 “Don’t you want to save lives?”

 Otabek frowned at that. “Engineering _can_ save lives. Who do you think designs medical devices?” He could tell that his father wanted to respond with _doctors_ , but he thought better of it. 

 “Son--” his mother started, but his father spoke over her. 

 “Have you no respect for our wishes?”

It was like a slap to the face. “Of course I do, but--”

 “No buts! We’ve given _everything_ to you, and you’re throwing it away.”

“I’m not  _ throwing _ anything away,” Otabek said quietly, “I just don’t want to be a doctor.”

His father sighed, shaking his head. “It was bad enough when Maya decided to  _ have a career _ , but you Otabek? I had thought better of you.”

 Otabek stood. “You can say whatever you want about me father, but _don’t_ talk about Maya like that.” Expectations their entire life, but he and Maya had never fit in that mold. They had always marched to the beat of their own drum. 

“We will not  _ pay _ for this,” his father finished with. “I won’t tell you  _ no _ , but I am unhappy about it.”

“No problem,” Otabek said, shouldering his bag. 

“Son--” his mother said, moving to follow him, but Otabek waved her off. 

And then he left.

 

….

 

He’d been bluffing, when he told his parents  _ no problem _ . It was absolutely a problem, because without their money, Otabak was fucked. But if there was anything he was good at, it was going with the flow and acting like everything was under control. 

That’s probably why he was so surprised to actually hear back from the  _ Tesla Corporation _ . 

Maya leaned around his shoulder, being the nosey woman she was. “Hey is that--”

“Yeah,” Otabek finished for her. 

“How many apply for that scholarship?”

“Thousands.”

“And how many do they give out?”

Otabek paused before answering. “The last time they gave this scholarship out was over a decade ago.” Tens of thousands of applicants over the years, but  _ Tesla _ was notoriously picky. As in,  _ no one was good enough _ . 

Maya nodded. “I thought that’s what you told me before.” A small pause. “Are you going to open it? Or just keep staring at it?”

“There’s no point in reading a rejection letter,” Otabek deadpanned.

Maya sighed. “Otabek, you’re so fucking stupid sometimes.”

Despite his hesitation though, he tore into the envelope and unfolded the letter. And he read it, and kept reading it. Rejection letters weren’t usually  _ pages _ long. And Maya knew, she always fucking knew, because he met her gaze she just looked back at him, already smiling.  

Otabek wasn’t one to smile, but this time he just couldn’t help himself. 

 

….

 

His mother was strangely happy about him receiving such a prestigious scholarship, but his father had slammed the phone onto the receiver, hanging up before he could even finish. Otabek wasn’t surprised, nor did he really  _ care _ . For the first time in years, he finally was doing something  _ for himself _ . Honestly, he could count on one head the amount of times he did so. 

There was a  _ downside _ to the scholarship however, and Otabek was staring at it right in the face. 

“Starfleet Academy,” a voice to his right said, and Otabek started, turning to find his sister there. He was confused. Maya was always  _ somewhere _ , but the Academy in San Francisco wasn’t expected. “Yeah, I can already hear you,” she continued. “‘Maya, why are you here? Maya, what is going on?’” she mocked, good naturedly. She held up a hand, showing off her luggage by their feet. 

“I’m enrolled, of course.”

Otabek was flabbergasted. “Maya, I--”

“Of the two of us, I’m actually  _ interested _ in space, I’ll remind you.” Otabek knew that. It’s why their father was so angry at her-- not only did his daughter want a career, she wanted one in  _ space _ . That was as good a dead end, as anything. 

“ _ Tesla _ said that if I were to receive the scholarship, this would be where I’d have to attend.”

“Yeah, because that genius brain of yours is best suited for spaceships,” she said with a smile. 

“I’m not a genius,” Otabek denied immediately, but Maya only rolled her eyes at him. 

“Does denying it make it better? Do you just…  _ gloss _ right over it?”

“Maya--”

“ _ In any case _ ,” she interrupted, “Someone has to keep an eye on your sorry ass. Might as well be me.”

“How were you even accepted? The cut-off was  _ months _ ago.”

Maya smiled at him, wide and mischievous. “Oh Beks, I applied back when you applied for the scholarship.”

“That was nearly a year ago!” 

“I mean, only an idiot would think you  _ wouldn’t _ get the gig.” The way Maya said, so full of ease on knowing, made him feel pretty fucking stupid. 

Then again, Maya  _ always _ made him feel stupid. She was one of those  _ full of earthly wisdom people _ , even if she never  _ did _ anything with it. Unless it was to tease him about anything and whatever. 

Still, her presence wasn’t unwanted. Otabek didn’t  _ do _ people. He didn’t  _ do _ friends, or space, or really anything. He just liked to take things apart, and put them back together. He liked to  _ create _ . 

But Maya? Maya was something that he could absolutely do, and maybe the Academy wouldn’t be  _ so _ bad.

Without a word, he held his arm out, and she smiled, pressing herself into his side. He leaned over, pressing a kiss to the side of her head, to which she immediately made a gagging sound. 

 

….

 

People thought that Maya was nothing but a walking sack of tits. 

She was pretty enough, with a rocking body, full of curves. She loved to wear make-up, she loved to party and hang out, and she loved to  _ enjoy _ any and every man that found worthy of her presence. And over the years, she’d made a name for herself. 

She just chose to embrace the terrible things they called her, instead of fighting it. 

But the Academy was different. She didn’t fit in because she didn’t  _ seem _ like the studious type. Because you know, looking one-hundred-and-ten-percent all the time, meant that you couldn’t have fucking brains. 

Father had heard the words  _ astrophysicist _ leave her mouth, and gotten so mad, he’d just left the room without a word. And then later--  _ Women don’t become scientists.  _ Mother had tried to understand at least. Mother had asked  _ why _ settling down wasn’t good enough.

__ Maya had told her that she’d rather settle with the stars, than with a husband and children. She still was surprised her mother hadn’t had a heart attack, at that particular thought.

Otabek was struggling, and that’s why she  _ knew _ she had to be there. He wasn’t like her, he didn’t feed of the energy of other people. He was a solitary creature, and he preferred to do things on his own. The Academy relished teamwork and cooperation, two things that were likely to put Otabek in an early grave.

So  _ of course _ , she’d come to the Academy with him. Honestly, she was kind of insulted he hadn’t seen it coming. 

“They need to stop fucking  _ staring _ ,” Otabek practically snarled, as they walked through the campus. The  _ at you _ was heavily implied.

“It’s nothing new,” she said, waving the thought away. Really, she just chose to ignore it. 

“It’s not okay--”

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal. Besides, I  _ embrace _ it.”

Otabek frowned at that. He’d never told her outright that he didn’t approve of her private life, but she knew that face when she saw it. “Well, if I hear it again, I’ll fucking kill them--”

“And get kicked out? Absolutely not.”

Otabek huffed at that, but wisely dropped any reply on his lips. 

“Really Beks,” she finally said, “You just learn to ignore it. Then it gets better. What they say doesn’t mean shit. I get good grades and that’s that.”

Yeah, she’d learned to ignore the words like  _ slut _ and  _ whore _ over the years, and yeah that made it  _ better _ . And yeah, she  _ enjoyed _ her life. 

But she’d never tell Otabek that it bothered her more than she let on. It was her job to worry about him, not the other way around. 

 

….

 

“It’s only lunch,” his mother said to him. 

Otabek sighed, pinching his nose in frustration. He knew that their silence wouldn’t last long; Kazakh families were close, and even if he was  _ angry _ at his parents, he knew that they’d come back around. Despite letting him go to the Academy on his own terms, they still  _ expected things _ from him as their only son. 

“ _ Ana, _ I really don’t have time--” 

“Otabek,” his mother asked quietly over the phone, “I’m not asking for much.” Except that she was. She was asking a hell of a lot, as far as he was concerned. She took his silence as an answer, and continued with, “You’re eighteen, Otabek.”

“I don’t want to--”

“Were we more traditional, we wouldn’t give you a  _ choice _ ,” she stressed. 

His parents were the most traditional people that he knew, but his mother was right. Many Kazakh families still  _ arranged _ marriages. The fact that his mother was only asking that he have lunch with the girl was saying something. He was certain that his mother had talked his father into it, otherwise he’d be on a plane back home, tying the knot with a girl he’d never met. 

“Only lunch,” Otabek said, his tone defeated. 

“Only lunch,” she confirmed. “She’s the daughter of one of your father’s coworkers. A little… unique, but I think you’ll like her. She reminds me of you, actually.”

Well, Otabek didn’t know how to take that. 

 

….

 

His mother had said Amita was  _ unique _ , but that was because she was too kind to say  _ strange _ . 

Otabek had expected his mother to pick a nice, traditional Muslim girl, but she was anything but. 

“Something’s fishy,” Maya said from his side. They were standing across the street from the cafe, watching Amita carefully as she waited for him. He figured a few minutes wouldn’t hurt. “She’s wearing a tank top and shorts-- you honestly expect me to believe Mom picked a woman who doesn’t wear hijab? Not to mention she’s a student at the Academy. Father must be fucking desperate.”

Otabek snapped a sharp look towards her. “ _ Hey,” _ he said, offended. 

“Sorry bro, I love you, but I would  _ never _ marry you.”

“Yes, that would be  _ incest. _ ” 

Maya stuck her tongue back out at him, and they turned to watch Amita once more. 

She was cute enough, light brown hair, cut short around her face. She wore glasses and blue jean shorts, with a cute pink tank top.  _ Definitely _ not the kind of woman his parents would approve of. 

“It’s just lunch,” Maya whispered, nudging him lightly. “Nothing has to happen.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he whispered back, before setting about to cross the street. 

When they greeted, Amita gave him a firm handshake, clearly as uncomfortable with the entire situation as he was. 

And like him, she wasn’t really a  _ people _ person. It wasn’t that she was unsociable, she just didn’t really know how to interact. Otabek found it a smidge endearing, and perhaps Amita wouldn’t be such a bad idea. 

“I’m sorry about my parents,” Otabek finally said, as their plates were cleared away.

“No, no,” she reassured, “It’s mine too. Haven’t you heard? I’m a lost cause.”

She cracked a sly smile at Otabek, who turned one in return. 

“Hey, what do you say about making a deal?” he asked. “I bet if we keep these lunch dates up, they’d leave us alone.”

“That sounds like a  _ fantastic _ plan.”

 

….

 

“You know, I don’t want to study here,” she told Otabek one night, while sitting out on the balcony of his dorm. They’d been hanging around each other for a few months by that point, and found that the company was incredibly pleasant. Amita wasn’t really the type to talk about herself though, so Otabek was surprised. 

“Yeah, me either,” he admitted. “I qualified for the  _ Tesla _ Scholarship, but the condition was that I studied here and then intern for half a year in their aerospace division.”

“All things considered, that’s a pretty cushy deal,” Amita said, giving him a side glance. 

“Yeah, I can’t complain.”

“My parents want me to be a doctor,” she admitted. “I mean, considering that our fathers are friends, that’s not really surprising.”

“What would you  _ rather _ do?”

“I love cars,” she blurted suddenly. Otabek blinked, looking at her. “Yeah, I know, you and your motorcycles. Maya told me about your hobby once, and I think that’s why your Mom thought I might be a decent choice, you know.  _ Similar interests _ .” She punctuated the words with finger quotes. “But really, I’m just a sucker for mechanical engineering.

“So I figured, if I get a doctorate, my parents couldn’t complain. And then I reasoned, if I get  _ two _ doctorates, then they couldn’t say  _ shit _ about what I decide to do with them.”

Otabek blinked at that, as it was such an  _ Amita _ way to think about something. “But your doctorate isn’t in medicine,” he said. “Neither of them are.”

“Yeah, my father’s mistake for not saying what  _ kind _ of doctorate he expected.” She winked at Otabek slyly, and he burst out laughing. 

“So, Mechanical Engineering and Interplanetary Physics-- at the same time, because you’re a fucking madwoman,” he concluded, looking back at her. “What do you plan on doing with them?”

“Absolutely nothing,” she said. “The moment I step off the graduation stage and hold those doctorates in my hands, I’ll tell my parents  _ to fuck off _ , and go work at an auto shop.”

_ God _ , Otabek wished he could do that, but no matter how annoying his parents were, he loved them  _ dearly _ . Amita, however, was entirely different. She never pulled punches about her terrible relationship with her family. 

“Hey, Amita,” he said quietly. “What if we go on a real date?”

And she looked back at him, her lips quirking into a gentle smile. “I would like that.”

 

….

 

Two years into the Academy, and Otabek was  _ thriving _ . 

It was a weird thing to watch, Maya thought. Otabek wasn’t the kind of man to get along with people-- and yet, he was. He had friends. That Seung-gil Lee guy might have been an  _ absolute _ stick in the mud, and Victor was a fucking  _ glittering unicorn of a gay man _ , but they took care of her brother. 

Perhaps better than she did. That was saying a lot. 

And then there was Amita. She hated to admit it, but she liked her from the get-go. Otabek hadn’t intended on falling in love with her, but well,  _ love was weird _ . At least in this case, it was a good weird. Who knew all it would take was to find someone even  _ more _ of a nerd than him. 

Their parents were happy… enough. But it’d been nearly a year and a half since they started properly dating, and those marriage bells weren’t ringing. Yet. 

It was only a matter of time.

Maya on the other hand, was a fucking mess. There was something that she and the eccentric Victor Nikiforov had in common, and that was wearing a new man on her arm every weekend. She  _ indulged _ , and it was great.

Until it wasn’t. 

Otabek often joked that she was  _ sleeping her way through the Academy _ . At first it was amusing, but now… She felt like a soulless lump that had  _ nothing _ . And even with good grades and decent testing skills, she felt like she just  _ didn’t belong _ . 

When her brother knocked on the door, she didn’t let him in. He had a key, he could use it. And when he finally stepped in, his cheeks flushed with a gentle and pink tint, she couldn’t help but flash him a tiny little smile. 

“Maya, Amita and I--” But whatever he was about to say was lost, as his gaze fell to the ground by her feet. His lips tugged into a curious frown. “Maya, what is this?”

She kicked at her suitcase lightly. “Mom and Dad were right, you know. I’m useless. I’m not good for anything.”

Otabek blinked. “Maya, you have some of the  _ highest _ grades in the Astrophysics department and--”

“And I’m suffocating, Beks,” she said sadly. “I study hard, I test well and I’m at a high level, but what’s the fucking point if I  _ hate _ it all?” She sighed, rubbing at her brow. “I want to see the stars more than anything, but this… this isn’t the way. I’m  _ drowning _ here.”

Otabek sighed, and she stepped towards him, her fingers gripping his shirt sleeve. “I don’t do rules, you know that. I pave my own path… and the Academy just  _ isn’t it _ .” 

“Are you going back home?”

Maya regarded him sadly. “I was told to  _ sort myself out _ , before I bothered to show my face. Whatever that means.”

What it meant was find a decent man and cover up, before coming back home. Their parents had allowed them a lot of freedom, but if she was intent on being under their roof, those expectations would weigh heavily on her shoulders again.

She’d come to the Academy to stop that, and wound up with the _ same shit _ brewing again. 

“Amita and I are getting our own place,” he said, pulling her into a tight hug. “Come stay with us. I know she won’t mind. It’ll be okay.” 

It’d been a long time since Otabek had pulled her close like this, running his fingers through her hair. Maya was the one that comforted him,  _ Maya _ was the ever resilient force, never her brother. 

But at that moment… she let him be.

 

….

 

“It’s weird,” Otabek said, watching the night sky. It was littered with twinkling stars, and while he still  _ didn’t like space _ , he didn’t  _ dislike _ it either. “I don’t feel like I’m graduating.”

“How angry was  _ Tesla _ , when you took the Starfleet internship instead?” Amita asked beside him. They lay side-by-side in the grass. The side lawn of their tiny home was the perfect place for stargazing. 

Otabek winced. “They weren’t  _ happy _ ,” he admitted. “But when I explained, they changed their mind. The Director said I’d be stupid to not take the gig.”

Amita hummed at that, and Otabek nudged her shoulder with his. “And what about you? First cadet to graduate with  _ two _ doctorates in  _ six years _ . I know I’ve said it before, but do you know how  _ insane _ you are?”

“Right back at you,  _ Commander _ .” Her signature smirk fell across her face. “Yes, well, it was  _ worth _ it, you know?”

“Not if you don’t use them.” 

“Pot, meet kettle.”

“Did you forget about how we were  _ just _ talking about my internship with Starfleet?”

“I wasn’t born yesterday,” Amita said, rolling her eyes. “You and I  _ both _ know it’s the grant money you want. And as long as you do their bidding, you’ll be  _ rolling _ in it.”

Otabek hummed in agreement. “I forget, you can see right through me.”

“Hey, Beks?” Amita ventured carefully, and it wasn’t a tone he often heard from her. “You know that I love you, right?”

Otabek swallowed. Of course he did, and he loved her too but-- Well, as of late, things had shifted. Four years had passed at the Academy and nearly three-and-a-half of them were spent together. 

And it was nice. What they had was  _ nice _ and  _ safe _ , and Otabek  _ liked _ it. And his parents liked it. Amita and Maya got along like bread and butter, and she put up with the eccentric few he could call friends. 

But that’s all it was. 

_ Nice _ . 

“I’ve been thinking,” she continued. “Dangerous, I know, but I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I--”

“Loving someone, and being  _ in love _ are two different things,” Otabek interrupted. 

Amita let out a long breath, and he felt relieved.  _ She _ felt relieved. “It’s stupid to think that it’s taken this long to realize that,” she said quietly. “And these years  _ weren’t _ a waste. But… I think our paths go different directions, Beks. It’s probably better if we part ways now.”

Otabek let out a small laugh, shifting slightly to hold his arm out. Despite her words, Amita snuggled into his side, letting out a sigh. “This must be the easiest break-up ever,” she mused. 

“Oh we aren’t breaking up,” he said seriously. “We might not be  _ together _ anymore, but you’re stuck with me  _ forever _ ,” he promised. “What would Maya say? ‘Best friends forever, and all that shit’?”

“You’re one-of-a-kind Beks,” she replied. “Someday, that’ll count for something.”

 

….

 

Otabek was a fucking idiot. 

Otabek was fucking  _ wasting his brain _ . 

He hadn’t qualified for an  _ impossible _ scholarship for nothing. He hadn’t graduated at a Commanding rank, after only four years-- something that  _ still  _  ground Seung-gil’s gears, no matter indifferent he acted. He’d done his stupid internship, extending it nearly  _ two years _ . 

Only to  _ hole himself into his fucking garage, doing god knows what _ . 

What was the point of being an engineering  _ genius _ . If you didn’t put it to use? What was the point of wasting away in a garage, tinkering at things like motorcycles and antique radios? 

And yeah, _ maybe _ she shouldn’t have yelled at him, but he deserved it. She was tired of seeing him ignore the things that he  _ could _ do. Their parents had wanted him to make a fucking difference, and he could, he  _ absolutely could _ . 

He just  _ wouldn’t _ . 

_ My designs are only that, Maya _ , he’d said to her. Going on and on about remaining theories, tucked away in neat little binders, before stored in his office. At least, that’s what she  _ assumed _ his office looked like. Otabek was the kind of man that was a  _ neat freak _ .

Angrily, she marched over to the door to yank on it… only to find it unlocked. She smirked; her brother was an idiot. She glanced around, but Otabek had stormed off in a huff, leaving her alone in the garage. Silently, she slipped in. 

His office was a pig sty, and she was surprised he could function in it. Papers stacked in various piles, tons of drawings and calculations plastered to the wall. She was good with math, but she saw formulas that made  _ no _ sense to her, trajectory patterns that seemed  _ impossible _ . 

Maya was going to change his life, she decided. If Otabek wasn’t going to do anything, then she would do it for him. And he’d be angry, but he’d get over it. He always did. 

She grabbed the folder that topped a pile on his desk. She casually flipped through it, seeing that it was an engine and smiled. Perfect. Something that Starfleet would like. Something that Starfleet might fund. 

Something that might give Otabek an  _ actual _ future. 

 

….

 

Maya had seen Otabek angry before. 

But she had  _ never _ seen him like this. 

Despite his stoic nature, when he was angry he was loud. He was the kind of man that went from zero to three-sixty in ten seconds flat, yelling loud enough to shake the walls. It was a  _ good _ thing that he  _ rarely _ got angry. 

But this wasn’t anger. This was bone-deep, seething and murderous intent. It was slowly simmering under his surface, white hot and ready to be unleashed. 

And it was directed at her. 

“I received a letter today,” he said quietly, his tone incredibly tight, the words clipped, “From Starfleet. Something about how they  _ liked my new design _ , and how they would  _ love _ to fund a grant to make it a reality. How they  _ kindly requested _ that I arrive at headquarters within the month.”

Maya swallowed thickly. She knew that  _ kindly requested _ , wasn’t a request at all-- it was an order. And despite Otabek’s quaint lifestyle as of late, he was still an active officer. 

“Of course I had  _ no _ idea what they were talking about, so I called--” He paused to read the letter again to double check-- “ _ Admiral Baranovskaya _ to ask. I explained that I had sent  _ so many _ drafts in, I was curious as to  _ which _ they liked the best.” He paused and  _ laughed _ , just a little chuckle. 

But it wasn’t kind. 

“I know for a fact that I never sent in the blueprints for my Temporal Engine--”

“Beks--”

“And since you are the  _ only other  _ person who has access to my office, I put two and two together.”

Maya wasn’t stupid enough to think that Otabek would hurt her, but she couldn’t help but think back to his Bridge Officer’s test, and how he’d  _ effortlessly _ bested the combat record. With minimal effort.

“Beks--”

“Do you know what you’ve done?” he asked her plainly. 

“I was just trying to--”

“ _ This was supposed to stay a theory _ , _ Maya! _ ” he snapped. “ _ This _ is why I told you to butt out and leave me alone. I spend days and weeks jotting down whatever ridiculous ideas I have in my head, but they are  _ never meant _ be fucking used.” He threw the letter and envelope onto his desk and dragged a tired hand down his face. 

“Do you know how this engine works?”

“I… will admit that I only flipped through the folder briefly--”

“It takes two quantum singularities, and it collides them. The reaction is cut  _ just short _ of the impending explosion, using the burst of power to charge the engine for an indefinite amount of time. Neat idea, could change the world--  _ there’s just one massive problem _ .”

Yeah, that they could potentially rip a wormhole in the fabric of space, and  _ really fuck shit up. _

Otabek finally looked at her, and it wasn’t the anger that got her, it was the clear and present  _ disappointment _ on his face. Because he  _ knew _ that she’d grasp the concept once he’d explained it, because she  _ majored _ in the science behind it. 

She never, ever,  _ ever _ wanted to see that look on him,  _ ever _ again. 

And if she had actually fucking looked at the paperwork-- 

“They’re expecting me in a week,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They’re acquired two miniscule black holes, to be used at my discretion. They expect a working model within a year’s time.  _ A year _ , Maya.” 

“Beks, I’m sorry--”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he said tiredly. “Just go.”

Go where? Back home? To a friend’s? It was clear though, he wanted her anywhere except right there at that moment. “Beks--”

“ _ Go,”  _ he snapped. 

Maya didn’t even cry. She held her head high, turned on her heel and left. She packed a bag, and stayed at Amita’s for two straight days. And when she went back to her and Otabek’s home, they avoided each other. 

They didn’t speak for nearly  _ three months _ , and it was a silence that spoke more volume than anything ever could.

 

….

 

The first time they fully tested the Temporal Engine, the ship was still on the ground, in the middle of the fucking Nevada desert. 

Otabek had miscalculated something, somewhere, and the resulting explosion took out half of the ship’s hull and left a crater the size of a small planet. 

The  _ second _ time they tested the engine, it was still in the fucking Nevada desert, but with a fully comissioned ship named the  _ Eros _ . Instead of exploding, the warp core imploded upon impact, causing a space-time rift to be ripped right into the fabric of the universe. It had taken nearly three days to close it, and they still had no idea where  _ Ensign Kirk _ had disappeared to. 

Otabek was at a loss, and it showed. 

“In all the years I’ve known you Otabek, this is a first.” 

Otabek groaned at the cheerful voice. He loved Victor, he really did, but there was a time and place for dealing with him, and he just  _ wasn’t up to it _ at that moment. “What are you doing here,” he sighed, downing the rest of his drink. 

He was in a seedy little bar,  _ definitely _ not the kind of place Victor would frequent. And yet, he took a seat on the stool next to him. 

“I heard you tried to kill the project your working on. Starfleet didn’t listen to the deposition.”

“Starfleet doesn’t know when to stop, even when it comes to the safety of her officers. Amita had the right idea-- she got out as soon as she fucking could.”

“There’s a price to being the best, Otabek. And unfortunately you’re paying it.”

“You didn’t answer me,” Otabek said, changing the subject. “ _ What are you doing here? _ ” 

Because the last time Otabek had seen Victor, it was at his front door, threatening him with literal death. 

“I’ve been called to head this project.”

Otabek blinked, not quite sure if he’d heard correctly. “I’m  _ sorry--” _

“ _ Apparently, _ I’m one of the only people that can deal with  _ your sorry ass _ . Not my words, I assure you.”

Otabek grunted at that. It’d been awhile since Admiral Baranovskaya had paid him a visit, but she was very clear about her disappointment in regards to the entire project. There were some  _ very _ choice words directed at him, the last time they spoke.

“You’re on desk work,” Otabek replied with. “You aren’t even active--”

“Things change when they need to. I know that you never asked for this, but at least I can help you make it work, alright?”

“Victor, you know  _ nothing _ about engineering.”

Victor shrugged at that, which caused Otabek to groan. “I’m  _ not _ calling you Captain.”

“Fine, but I’m calling you--”

“I swear to fucking God Victor, if you call me Commander--”

“ _ You  _ took the test,” Victor reminded him. 

“I blame Seung-gil.”

“ _ Speaking of _ .”

Otabek looked towards Victor. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Seung-gil is to be first officer.”

“A first officer implies  _ taking a ship into space _ .”

Because so far, the project had only done ground-based testing. 

“Ah, well--”

“ _ Are you telling me they want us to take her into space?” _

Victor winced slightly, and Otabek threw out a nasty curse. “How long?”

“They want to launch beginning of next year, so--”

“That’s less than half a year. How do they think--”

“I’ve assembled the  _ best _ of the best,” Victor interrupted. “We’ll make it work.”

Otabek looked at him incredulously. “Victor, this isn’t a project that you  _ make work _ .” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “We’re  _ fucked _ .”

“Otabek, you’re literally the most brilliant engineer in the  _ galaxy _ . We just need to approach it another way.”

“What’s the nature of the mission?”

“To test the ship, that’s all,” Victor promised. “Get her into space, test how she works, and document the results. We’ll be back before you know it.”

Otabek sighed. It could be worse, he supposed. 

“I didn’t  _ intend _ on taking the offer, truth be told,” Victor confided. “And you know why. I’m better, but I’m still not in a great place. I thought it was a mistake to offer me this.”

Otabek grunted at that. “Then why did you?”

“Well, after careful thought, I realized something. If I took this command, I’d be the youngest Captain in Starfleet history. And that would  _ really _ piss off my father.” Otabek barked out a laugh at that. “Also, I have it on good authority that I can sneak a bar onto the ship.”

“Victor--”

“And I  _ know the perfect person _ \--”

“I fucking swear, if my sister’s name comes out of your mouth.”

Victor smiled slyly at him, and Otabek grimaced. Yeah, he hadn’t patched that one up yet. 

“I’m going to need another fucking drink,  _ Captain _ .”

 

….

 

Otabek wasn’t a nervous person. He didn’t like the oily feeling of dread, deep in the pit of his stomach. 

“You look like you’re going to puke,” Seung-gil said dryly. 

“I might,” Otabek said quietly, and judging by the first officer’s careful side step, he believed that it might actually happen. 

This was different. This ship was going into space, this ship had a  _ crew _ . And he was responsible for them. Yeah, Maya had  _ caused _ this all, but he fucking designed it.  _ What had he been thinking? _

“I won’t,” Otabek concluded. “I’ll be fine.” If the see-sawing in his stomach would stop.

Seung-gil was the quiet sort, and Otabek was thankful for that. “We’ll make do,” he replied, reaching out to press a hand against his shoulder. Then it was gone as soon as it had come. “She’s not a bad looking ship.” They stood on a catwalk to the side, watching as final preparations were made. In less than a day, they’d push, and Otabek wasn’t particularly happy about it.

“I had to tweak the design a little bit, and adjust the engine output. I called Amita for some input, but she just laughed in my face and told me I was on my own.”

“That sounds like her,” Seung-gil said, his lips quirked upward to one side. 

“ _ In any case _ , she has a better chance of being successful than the previous attempts.”

“Percentages?”

“Do… Do you actually want to know?” Otabek asked, grimacing. 

Seung-gil regarded him for a long moment, and then folding his hands behind his back, said, “On second thought,  _ no _ .” Otabek had been about to respond, but was distracted by a familiar face behind Seung-gil. “Otabek?”

But Otabek pushed past him, crossing the length of the catwalk and down a ladder quickly. 

Maya froze there, unsure what to do. 

Otabek went to her, pulling her close in a tight hug. Immediately she responded, wrapping her arms around him. 

“I thought you’d still be angry,” she said into his ear.

“Oh I’m  _ furious _ ,” he promised. “But I  _ missed _ you.”

Maya didn’t cry, she  _ never _ cried, but she held onto tightly. “I was so worried you’d send me away.” There was a slight waver to her tone, and that caused Otabek to pull back, looking her in the face. 

“That’s not my call to make, and you know that.” He patted her cheek lightly. “But if I had my way…”

“ _ Beks _ .”

He pulled her close again. It’d taken three months for them to  _ talk _ to each other again, but he hadn’t  _ seen _ her in nearly a year. It was the longest they’d ever been apart, and he wasn’t keen on repeating it-- no matter how angry he was. 

“A  _ bar _ ?” he hissed into her ear. “Really, Maya?”

“A  _ lounge _ ,” she corrected. 

“What would Mother and Father say?” He knew that Maya was smiling against his neck, because they  _ both _ knew that their parents thought alcohol was  _ the Devil’s drink _ . “First space, and now liquor, what’s next?”

“Copious amounts of--”

“ _ Please _ don’t finish that sentence.”

She pulled back again, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “At least you’ve taken care of yourself. I thought you might not.”

“It hasn’t been easy, but Victor keeps me on my toes.”

“ _ Someone _ has to.”

Maya turned to look at the ship, leaning against the catwalk railing. “What’s her name?” She nodded towards the ship.

Otabek came up beside her, leaning on his forearms. “The  _ USS Agape. _ I didn’t name her, our illustrious Captain did.”

“ _ Agape _ ,” Maya repeated, testing the name. “It suits her.” 

Otabek sighed, but nudged her arm with his. “The easy part is done. The hard starts now.”

“Good thing we have the best fucking engineer around.” 

Otabek smiled at that. “Yeah. We’ll make it work.”

 

….

 

His grandmother had once told him that he’d eventually learn to take pleasure in the simple things in life. As a young man, Otabek had never quite understood.

The Berendi had gifted him and Yuri a room together, because they apparently had  _ terrible _ poker faces, and couldn’t hide  _ anything _ . And currently, Yuri was dead asleep, curled tightly into the thick blankets that covered the bed. His golden hair was down, fanning around his head, glittering in the moonlight that filtered in from the window. 

Otabek’s heart skipped a beat at the sight, and suddenly, he knew what his grandmother had meant. Yeah, they were in a pickle. The engine had blown up, he was taking it apart and rebuilding it, and then they had to find a way back home. 

Best case scenario-- they do and life goes back to normal. Which he wasn’t sure he wanted.

Worst case scenario-- they don’t, and drift through space back towards home, taking decades to get there. That option was… not as terrible as it could be, all things considered. 

Because you know, he had  _ Yuri _ now. And sitting there on the mattress, watching him sleep was one of those  _ simple things _ . And he could do it for-fucking-ever, he realized. He could be stuck in space for the rest of his life, and if Yuri was there, it’d be  _ okay _ . 

Several months ago, the thought would have absolutely freaked him out. He’d mellowed out, it seemed. He reached out, brushing Yuri’s hair behind his ear. The man sighed gently in his sleep, shuffling sightly in his position. 

It was unfair, how beautiful this man was. Otabek was  _ lucky _ , so unbearably, lucky. 

His comm badge chirped quietly, and he was thankful he’d turned it down. Yuri was a heavy sleeper, but he didn’t want him to wake after such a long few days. He deserved rest. He left the bed quietly, padding across the floor on bare feet. 

Grabbing the comm badge, he went out onto the balcony before he answered it. 

“Altin, here.”

“ _ ‘Altin, here _ ,’” the voice on the other end mocked. “ _ I can’t tell you the last time I heard you so formal.” _

“Maya,” Otabek said, his lips twisting into a smile. Yuri might have been an immense comfort in his life now, but originally it was her. Even when considering the entire engine-and-ship thing. 

“ _ I didn’t wake you, did I? _ ” And then there was a pause.  _ “Or you know, interrupt anything, because if you and Yuri were--” _

“He’s asleep right now,” Otabek cut in. 

“ _ Ah, tired after pound town, got it.” _ Otabek dragged his hand down his face, groaning at her lewd joke. “ _ Unless he’s the one doing the--” _

“Maya,” Otabek interrupted again, “I’m not talking about this.”

“ _ But I tell you about everything and everyone I sleep with!” _

“I don’t ask you to.”

He heard her sigh before replying. “ _ You know, I’m just trying to lighten the mood with humor.” _

And he knew that she was. That was just what Maya did, she had always been the comic relief, the one to try and cool down frantic situations. That’d been her job ever since they were kids. 

“You know,” he started with, but then paused, trying to find the proper words. “I’m okay.” Perhaps not the most  _ eloquent _ he’d ever been, but it did the trick.

“ _ We’re definitely not okay _ \--”

“No, I know  _ that _ ,” Otabek said with a slight huff. “What I mean to say is that  _ I’m _ okay. You don’t need to take care of me anymore.”

Maya was quiet for a moment, and then she chuckled. “ _ Beka, I know that. But you can’t stop me from trying.” _ At that, he smiled. “ _ What’s he sleep like?” _ she then asked. “ _ He seems like the type to kick in his sleep.” _

“He’s out like a light,” Otabek replied. “And he’ll stay that way. He sets  _ four _ alarms to wake up in the morning, and sleeps through the first three.”

“ _ You know Beka, I’m happy. For you, I mean. At first it was kind of funny, but boy you two had it bad for each other _ .”

“You just  _ had _ to stick your nose in it,” he said, remembering how she’d set a trap for  _ both _ of them weeks prior. And they’d both fallen right into it, like sheep led to the slaughter. Maya’s smug smirk was still burned into his mind.

“ _ If I hadn’t, would you have made a move?” _

“I was trying!” He paused. “The universe had different ideas.”

Maya was quiet again, and then,  _ “Is it weird? Him being a guy?” _ She wasn’t judging, she was asking honestly. She  _ knew _ him, and she knew that this was uncharted territory. In fact, he really hadn’t dated since Amita, and that was  _ years _ ago.

“At first, yes,” he answered truthfully. “But now… not so much.”

“ _ What changed? Aside from you know, nailing his ass.” _

“Maya!” Otabek hissed.

“ _ Oh. So you haven’t yet. Gotcha.” _ She couldn’t hide the disappointment in her voice, and Otabek had to remind himself that he wasn’t  _ her _ . He didn’t just  _ sleep _ with people, especially people he actually  _ liked _ . 

Unless you know, it was frustrated and heavy-handed grinding in the darkness of the engine room.

“ _ Maya, _ ” he repeated with an aggravated groan. 

“ _ I’m only teasing _ ,” she said lightly.  _ “But really, what changed?” _

Otabek thought about it. At what point did things take a turn? It wasn’t immediate, it wasn’t even after that first kiss, it was… Well, it was kind of before that, and a relatively seamless transition at that.

“It changed when I stopped trying to label it,” he finally said. “I wasn’t wrestling with the idea of  _ him _ , but rather with the idea of  _ me _ . It’s not like I woke up one day and decided I was  _ gay _ . It’s  _ still _ not like that, and it won’t ever be. I saw Yuri, and I… Well, you know. It’s not a matter of  _ gay or not _ , or  _ will-I, will-he, won’t-I, won’t-he _ . 

“It’s just Yuri and myself, and that’s that. That’s all it has to be.”

“ _ Beka, you’ve fallen in so deep. _ ” She wasn’t wrong. Otabek slipped back to the doorframe, stealing another glance at Yuri in the bed. Still sound asleep, looking more peaceful than he ever had. Not vulnerable, just… calm. The permanent line of anger etched into his brow, was softened.

It was the look Otabek liked the best, he decided. 

_ “Really Beka, I’m so proud,”  _ Maya finally said.  _ “At least one of us is getting our shit together. I’m a fucking mess.” _

“Maya, you aren’t--”

_ “Cut the crap, Beka. You and I both know exactly how I feel. This entire thing is my fucking fault. I deserve everything that’s coming to me.” _

“Maya,” Otabek said quietly. “No you don’t. You deserve the world, just like any of us.” She wasn’t usually the introspective type, but he could imagine the wheels turning in her head as she thought. 

Finally, she changed the subject by asking,  _ “Have you thought about what you’re going to tell Mom and Dad?” _

He groaned at that. Yes, he’d thought about it. No, he didn’t have a good solution. Their parents were a lot of things, but  _ devout and traditional muslims _ were at the top of the list. Their son going off to space and coming home with a  _ boyfriend _ wasn’t something he was looking forward to explaining. 

“I guess I’ll tell them that I fell in love.” It took Maya sucking in a breath, for him to realize what he had said. “What I mean to say is--”

_ “Oh Beka,” _ she sighed, but it sounded like she was at least happy. But whatever she’d been thinking was lost.  _ “Well, in any case, let’s hope that Yuri shares that enthusiasm, yeah? _ ”

Otabek couldn’t help the smile that settled across his face. He didn’t really think that was going to be an issue, at the end all of things. The two of them fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments. 

Then, Maya broke it.  _ “This planet is beautiful. I mean, two moons? How cool is that?” _

“All things considered, at least we’re on the adventure of a lifetime, right?”

_ “Yeah, all things considered,” _ Maya agreed and then hesitated.  _ “Beka, you know that I love you, right?” _

“Yeah. I love you too, sis.”

_ “You better fucking, because after everything I’ve done for the two of you--” _

“Maya--”

“Beka?” 

Otabek froze slightly at the sound of Yuri’s sleepy voice. He turned from the railing of the balcony to find Yuri leaning against the door frame. Otabek’s eyes drifted along his tall figure, taking in the long shirt Yuri had stolen from him. It stopped mid-thigh, showing off his legs and--

_ “Beka?” _

Yuri rose an eyebrow sleepily, but crossed the short distance to Otabek, leaning down and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, pressing his nose against his neck. Another thing he’d learned about Yuri, was that he was a snuggler in his sleep. Apparently, that translated to merely  _ sleepy _ as well. 

“Is that your sister?” Yuri asked quietly. 

“Yeah.”

_ “Beka. _ ” Well, now she sounded  _ annoyed _ . 

“Sorry, Maya,” he said back into the comm. “Yuri woke up.”

_ “Oh. Well, uh, I’ll leave you two to uh--” _

But Otabek had already closed the link, slipping the badge into the pocket of his sleeping pants. 

“Mmhm,” Yuri breathed, pressing a kiss against his neck. 

They hadn’t had much alone time since their…  _ heated _ moment in the engine room a few days prior, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t  _ tried _ at least. “Yuri--”

“I’m not starting anything,” Yuri replied, and Otabek could  _ hear _ the exhaustion in his voice. “I just… It’s a nice moment, okay? Let me enjoy it.” 

Otabek hummed in response. “Let’s go back to bed,” he suggested. He pulled away, moving to tug Yuri back into the room, but the other man stood his ground. Otabek paused, as Yuri moved to grab his hand gently. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Yuri said quietly. Otabek swallowed. He didn’t need to be told  _ what _ , but the words were comforting nonetheless. “No matter what happens,” Yuri continued with. “I’m not going anywhere. Kay?”

Otabek regarded him for a moment, thinking back to the words that had slipped out with Maya. 

_ I’ll tell them that I fell in love _ . 

He’d said them effortlessly, without even thinking about it. They’d been on the ship for several months, and maybe it was too soon to think something so rash but--

It seemed right. It made  _ sense _ . It was like the piece of a puzzle, just  _ falling _ into place. 

“Beka?”

“Yeah,” he said, squeezing his hand. “Yeah, uh, thanks.” And then, “Back to bed.”

The smile that Yuri gave him was small, but it might as well blinded him. He was the only person to see him like this, so at ease. Otabek’s heart swelled with it. 

Yeah, everything was going was going to be just _fucking fine._ __

………….

 

“Katsuki Yuuri?”

The young man looked up from his lap at which he had been staring for the past couple of minutes. The woman that warmly smiled down at him was one of his professors - but if one had asked him in this very moment what the woman’s name was, he would have found himself unable to give an answer. He was too nervous, too sure of his failure, that he could not even bear to look the woman in the eye.

“We have come to a decision,” she said. “Please, come in.”

Yuuri rose from the chair with shaking legs, nervously clasping his hands as he followed the woman back into the conference room where he had defended his dissertation merely minutes ago. 

To Yuuri, however, it had felt like hours.

If one had asked Yuuri Katsuki what his personal nightmare looked like, then he would have probably named the current situation as the prime example. A room full of respectable, renowned professors that were famous for their work within and beyond their respective field of expertise, all of them looking at him, as if they were about to send him to the scaffold.

But this was just a conference room at Starfleet Academy Tokyo. Even if it felt like hell in this moment.

“We have come to a decision,” Admiral Chevalier said as Yuuri had come to stand in front of them. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, and Yuuri was sure that everyone in the room could hear it, that they secretly laughed about him for being like this. That he couldn’t even hold himself together in front of them, who had achieved more than he ever would. “We would like to give you our final evaluation now. Are you ready?”

Yuuri couldn’t do anything but nod. It was a miracle, he thought, that he was able to move at all.

“Well, the beginning of your dissertation is very promising, indeed,” Admiral Baranovskaya said, flipping almost carelessly through the pages. “It has an interesting outline. The aim of your dissertation is clearly defined.”

“I agree with Admiral Baranovskaya,” the Admiral to the woman’s left said, and Yuuri recognised him as one of the Heads of the Xenolinguistics department at the German Starfleet Academy of Berlin. “The first three chapters lead up to an excellent analysis.”

“But the analysis itself has its shortcomings,” Admiral Chevalier said, reaching for his own copy of the dissertation. A cold shiver ran down Yuuri’s spine at that. There it was. The final execution. This was the point where they would tell him how terrible his work was, of what a poor standard, and that he should be ashamed of even wasting their time by presenting such nonsense to them after years of studying. 

“The theory it is based on is original, yes,” Professor Schilling said softly. “But the basis of the premis relates too much to the work of Dr. Josephine Krönke.”

“And the method is the one of Dr. Yoshizuki.” The German admiral sighed, closing his copy of Yuuri’s dissertation.

This was it.

He had failed.

He would never be able to face his mother and father ever again. 

“But the idea that Donwar could have the same underlying structures as the Karikan languages, and that there must be a similarity or even a shared origin…” Admiral Chevalier chuckled. “Absolutely brilliant.”

_ What? _

“A fine piece of work that deserves to be a doctoral dissertation,” Admiral Baranovskaya added curtly. 

“So, I don’t have much to add to this,” Professor Schilling smiled, clasping her hands. “So, Dr. Katsuki, how will you surprise us next?”

It was as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room, and all the sounds with it. Yuuri felt hot and cold at the same time, his breath hitched in his throat and his vision went blurry. 

“Katsuki-san!” 

A pair of hands grabbed him before he could hit the floor and put him into a chair and his feet up. “Katsuki-san, are you alright?” The voice of Professor Schilling reached him, and Yuuri felt someone pat his cheeks. 

“Let him be,” someone with a Japanese accent said calmly. “It is the nerves with him. Katsuki-san probably did not sleep at all for the last few days.”

That was his supervisor, Dr. Yoshizuki, the man that knew him better than anyone else in this room - and who was well aware of Yuuri’s anxiety. 

Yuuri took a few deep breaths before he dared to open his eyes again. Dr. Yoshizuki knelt before him, smiling warmly and offering him a glass of water.

“ _ Katsuki-san wa daijoubu desu ka? _ ” He asked softly. 

“ _ H-hai _ ,” Yuuri murmured and gratefully accepted the water, taking a few small sips. It was comforting to hear his mother tongue now. It was the only thing he could really trust in this moment, for he had surely misheard just moments ago.

There was no way that they had called him-

“Dr. Katsuki?” Professor Schilling came to stand next to Dr. Yoshizuki. 

“You’re wrong,” Yuuri murmured, shaking his head again and again. “I ruined it. I absolutely ruined it-”

“You can believe me, Dr. Katsuki,” Professor Schilling smiled. “Your dissertation is a fine piece of work.”

“Give him some time,” Dr. Yoshizuki said calmly and seemed to produce a cup of tea out of nowhere, placing it in Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri murmured a small thank you and took a few sips, sighing in relief at the taste of traditional Japanese green tea. This was one of the reasons why he had wanted Dr. Yoshizuki as his supervisor. Even when working abroad, he had had someone who understood him thoroughly. And some things could only be said in Japanese.

After drinking almost half of the cup, Yuuri felt a little more like himself again. 

“Better?” Dr. Yoshizuki asked with a smile and patted Yuuri’s shoulder. “Because there is even more that we would like to tell you.”

“H...huh?” Yuuri blinked, looking up at his supervisor. 

“We would like to include your dissertation, well, at least parts of it, to the  _ Matsushiba Universal Dictionary of Alien Languages, _ ” Professor Schilling said. “It is of such an excellent standard that it would be a shame not to include it.”

Yuuri blinked at the woman in surprise, trying to process all the information pouring down onto him. 

They had accepted his dissertation.

He was Dr. Yuuri Katsuki now.

They wanted his work in the  _ Matsushiba _ .

“It would make you a co-editor,” Dr. Yoshizuki explained to him. “I don’t have to tell you what a great opportunity this is.”

Yuuri nodded lightly, looking down at the cup in his hands again. This was all too good to be true, he told himself. There had to be some kind of mistake. There surely was something that they all had missed, that proved that he was not fit to carry this title, that his work was not good enough to be ever added to something like the  _ Matsushiba… _

“You are overthinking it again, I believe,” Dr. Yoshizuki chuckled. “You don’t have to give an answer right away. For now, I believe you should call your family. I’m sure they are already waiting.”

Yuuri nodded at that, slowly standing from the chair and bowing to his examiners. “Th-thank you for accepting my dissertation. I will do my best not to disappoint you.”

Professor Schilling chuckled. “Go and call your family, Dr. Katsuki. I expect you in the office again on Friday. Use the day tomorrow to celebrate.”

“Off you go!” Dr. Yoshizuki smiled as Yuuri began to stutter that this was too much, and already pushed him towards the door. “Tell your sister I said hello. And that I am still very sorry for breaking that vase.”

Yuuri found himself outside the conference room before he even knew what was happening, his dissertation in hand, the certificate stating his doctoral degree on top of it.

He had done it. 

He was Doctor Yuuri Katsuki.

Yuuri Katsuki, Ph.D.

With shaking hands, he fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number of his parents.

And then, for the first time in weeks, Yuuri could not help but smile.

 

….

 

The Berendi had happily given him access to their national library, and Yuuri dug his way through the books about the Berendi language to find information for his own studies. The translation device and his first drafts of the syntactic and phonetic structures of the language only helped so much - for a proper analysis, he had to take what he could get. 

Victor had come with him that day, humming softly to himself as he flipped through an art book of the Berendi. Every now and then, he would nudge Yuuri to show him a particular work, and Yuuri would give him a kiss to the cheek in return. 

How had he become so lucky?

“You’re so smart,” Victor hummed and wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s waist, resting his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder to watch him work. “All of this looks like… Chinese to me.”

Yuuri chuckled. “You do know that these lines here look nothing like Chinese, right?”

“No?”

“You’re unbelievable.” Yuuri turned his head and pecked Victor’s jaw. 

“No, you are,” Victor said, hugging him closer. “Dr. Yuuri Katsuki. I’m dating a man that is so unbelievably smart. And so brave. And so beautiful. And so-”

“Victor!” Yuuri whispered, blushing deeply and glancing at the Berendi librarians that were watching them fondly. “You can’t just say that…”

“But it’s the truth,” Victor said and made Yuuri turn around in his arms, cupping his cheeks. “I’m so glad to have you, Yuuri. I’m so, so lucky.”

Yuuri sighed and leant into his embrace, closing his eyes.

They were incredibly lucky, he thought to himself as Victor nuzzled his hair.

They could get through this, together. They could find a way home.

Even if it took them a lifetime.


End file.
